


silence of the sea

by vonseal



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Boats and Ships, Deaf Character, Explicit Language, Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, Muteness, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Pirates, Relationships will be added, Romance, Sea Monsters, Sexual Content, Sirens, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: sirens like to kill. minhyuk grew up with this fact lodged in his mind, and thus he developed a healthy fear of such hideous sea creatures. when he meets a siren who is both unwilling and unable to kill, his entire life is turned upside down and he must challenge his preconceived notions of the world around him.
Relationships: Kim Myungjun | MJ/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Moon Bin/Park Minhyuk | Rocky
Comments: 163
Kudos: 252





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here we are, the start of my long-awaited myungky fic.
> 
> it's slow burn. really slow burn. enjoy that, ya losers.

He could hear a humming noise.

That was his first indication that something was dreadfully wrong. The second was his navigator suddenly leaving his post and gazing out to the sea, a dazed expression coming upon his face. Minhyuk narrowed his eyes, cautious and unsure, and followed the navigator’s stare.

He saw movement in the water, and his fears came true.

_ Sirens _ , he thought, eyes wide with panic.

Sirens plagued the sea, though they remained in little pockets of clans or colonies or whatever the hell one was supposed to call a grouping of murderous serpents. Typically, their locations were marked on maps that were then shared with the other humans up on land, so that no one would run into them unnecessarily. Of course, sirens were able to move locations and so they would go to wherever they could find food.

Minhyuk had thought he made enough of a loop around a large colony that he wouldn’t be affected, but apparently the sirens had come for him. His ship was a merchant ship, aboard which many young men worked, and  _ of course _ he would be prime prey for the sirens.

He hurried forth to grab a hold of his navigator’s arm. “Don’t listen!” he warned, but it was too late. The siren’s song had caught his ear, and the navigator pulled away as if in a trance, walking toward the edge of the ship. 

Minhyuk grabbed him again, but then his mind raced.

He was going to lose men. It had happened once before, and it was a horrible sight and a terrible feeling. Men fell off the ship as if not in control of their own bodies, as if pulled by invisible strings to plummet to their deaths. Once the sirens had them in their nasty grips, they would kill them. Sometimes by drowning and sometimes by devouring and sometimes by slow, torturous death just for fun. Sirens reminded Minhyuk of the cats his family owned. They caught the prey and allowed it to suffer before delivering the final blow.

And all Minhyuk could do was hope to save at least one man.

He turned, the navigator still in his hold, and noticed his best friend down on the main deck, also drawn toward the sound. Bin was stumbling in his steps, arms reached out to the sea, and in a minute, he would be overboard.

Minhyuk thought of poor Bin, dragged down into the depths of the ocean by the sirens, played with and eventually killed and eaten.

He shoved the navigator to the floor of the ship before running down the stairs and past other crew members who were about to reach the edge. If he was to save only one man of his entire crew, then it had to be Bin. It  _ had _ to be Bin. He refused to live a life without Bin by his side.

He reached Bin and tackled him. It was a little difficult. Even without the force of the spell, Bin was strong and muscular and agile. Even without the force of the spell, Bin was impossible to keep hold of. Now, though, he was drawn toward the sea, and he was willing to do anything to get there.

Bin struggled in his grasp. He yelled something, too, though Minhyuk wasn’t making much of an effort to read lips at the moment. He had his eyes squeezed shut as he held down his best friend, mostly in order to ward off the sight of his own crew falling to their deaths. He would hold Bin down for as long as possible; he would not allow the sirens to take his entire crew, and he certainly would not allow the sirens to take  _ Bin _ .

Bin hit him. Bin bit him. Bin did everything in his power to join his brethren in their untimely and tragic deaths. But Minhyuk, trying to drown out the siren’s spell, yelled for him not to. “Listen to me only!” he ordered, hoping his words were clear and loud. “Do not listen to their song! Bin, please, listen to me! Only me! Please, Bin, do not leave me! I cannot live if you leave my side!”

It took a while; twenty minutes, perhaps, though Minhyuk wasn’t exactly counting down the time. After a bit, Bin began to still. The humming died down. Bin breathed harshly underneath Minhyuk’s grip, tired out from all the struggling he had done.

The sirens must have completed their song. They must have all the men they would need for some time. Either that, or the ship, continuing without a navigator, had passed their waters. Regardless, they appeared to be safe, and Minhyuk loosened his grip on Bin.

Bin lifted his head up. His eyes were wide as he stared at Minhyuk.

“Sirens?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk nodded his head.

Bin looked around. Minhyuk did, too, eyes hardening when he realized they were the only two left aboard the ship.

There was a noise. Bin was talking. Minhyuk glanced back at him, and Bin repeated whatever he had said before.

“Damn.”

Bin was never one for long speeches, but the curse clearly portrayed how they both felt about the situation. Minhyuk went for one a little more intense however, and muttered, “Shit.”

“Fuck,” Bin declared, always one to up whatever it was Minhyuk did.

It would be funny, if not for the lives they had lost. Minhyuk stood where he was and stared out at the sea, wondering if all the men would be granted quick deaths.

He hoped they would be.

Bin stood, too, a hand on Minhyuk’s shoulder as he gazed out over what was now an empty ship.

“I feel like a failure,” Minhyuk said. He cleared his throat and then glanced over at Bin, who returned his gaze. “Am I a bad captain?”

“You’re the best damn captain I’ve ever served under.”

“I’m the only captain you’ve served under,” Minhyuk pointed out. He looked away and ran his fingers through his hair. “How will we do this, Bin? Two men running this entire ship?”

Bin didn’t speak; or, if he did, Minhyuk wasn’t paying attention. Rather, he was looking at the desolate space left for him to try and command. He was looking at the positions where his men ought to be, where they were usually placed after such an action-packed moment.

“We need a new crew,” Minhyuk muttered, looking over at Bin.

“We’ll be coming to Tawaksut within a couple of days,” Bin replied. “If you want to look over the maps and figure out the plan for which port we should stop at, then I can steer.”

Typically, a captain would not work on navigation. Or, at least,  _ Minhyuk _ would not work on navigation. He preferred to spend his time in his own cabin, pouring over maps and books and papers of the products he had and needed to sell. But the day’s activities still lay raw on his mind. He lost so many men to the damned sirens, and he was scared that if he went down to his cabin, then he would lose Bin, too.

“I will man the ship,” Minhyuk told him with a soft smile. “I haven’t done it in so long, and I think I miss being at the wheel.”

Bin narrowed his eyes. “That sounds like a lie.”

It was, but Minhyuk refused to harp on that. He pushed Bin toward the lower deck with a scoff. “I’ll enjoy myself,” he claimed. “It might be relaxing to be alone for a while. You just stay down there and only come up if you need me for anything.”

He knew Bin was complaining; he could hear the low-pitched mumble coming from his friend. However, Bin didn’t turn around to say anything directly to Minhyuk and Minhyuk decided against engaging in conversation. He wanted to be alone for a while, to think of ways to thwart any siren attacks that might befall them again. 

He was thankful that  _ he _ , at least, was immune to the songs of the sirens. He was unable to hear them sing. He was deaf, and the only time it proved to be of any use was when the sirens would attack. 

He hadn’t always been deaf. As he took his place at the wheel of the ship, he thought back to when he was a child and could hear just as well as any other man could. His parents would talk to him, and he would talk back. His friends would joke with him and he would joke back. It wasn’t until he was an apprentice on a merchant ship, at the young age of seven, that his hearing began to diminish. At first, he just assumed he was sick. He pushed all concerns and worries aside because it really wasn’t that bad. But as time passed and his hearing worsened, he  _ had _ to worry.

Nothing could be done, the doctors had told him. Some people just lost their hearing. 

He could hear  _ sounds _ . Low-pitch and high-pitch, he could hear those types of sounds. When people spoke, he definitely heard a distinctive murmur. 

When sirens sang, it was a soft and pretty murmur, but the song was not able to bypass his deafened ears and force his brain into obedience. He still retained his sanity, at least, and for that he was thankful.

Because he wasn’t affected by their song, he could save others.

Most of the time,  _ others _ meant Bin. Bin was the one he truly sought to save, but he didn’t feel guilty for letting the rest of the crew die if it meant Bin would survive. Bin had been his best friend since they were young, since they had met on a ship as apprentices. Bin had tried to get his attention, and then snapped, “Why can’t you hear? Are you deaf or something?”

Minhyuk had nodded his head and Bin had decided, right then and there, that he would be Minhyuk’s ears.

At the time, Minhyuk didn’t want anyone to baby him or assist him. He found it patronizing. He hated how Bin would follow him and nudge him if someone was speaking. He hated how Bin had begun to exaggerate his speech so Minhyuk could follow along. He hated how  _ kind _ Bin was.

And then he grew to love Bin.

Bin never meant to be patronizing or rude. Bin always wanted to  _ help _ , and for that Minhyuk cherished him. They became close friends and Minhyuk never wanted to part from Bin. He would be damned, then, if he allowed sirens to steal the man he loved most of all.

When Minhyuk bought his own ship, Bin was right there by his side to aide him along the way. Bin knocked sense into their crew, forced respect out of them, and translated all that needed translating for Minhyuk. With Bin, things were easy. With Bin, things were wonderful.

He hoped Bin would always know how much he was appreciated.

And, with the sun high in the sky and sweat dripping down Minhyuk’s forehead, he charted his course for the closest port.

He kept his eyes out on the sea, ready to save Bin as many times as necessary.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

The moon cast little light onto the ship. Bin, with his adoration for all things that hung in the sky, observed, “It’s a waning crescent.”

Minhyuk yawned and removed his hat from his head. Bin mussed his hair, trying to rid it of any imperfections caused by the hat. “It’s too dark,” Minhyuk complained. “I hate it when the moon gets like this.”

“It’s pretty, though.”

Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders. He stared out over the waters. The reflection of the moon was probably brighter than the moon itself was. It  _ was _ a little pretty, though many wonders of the ocean had ceased to excite Minhyuk. He sailed the trading paths, and there was hardly any variety among those.

The sirens were the only thing different about the paths he took, and with a groan, he said, “We’ll have to devise a new trading path. We’ll have to warn other merchants about that particular area, too.”

Bin look at him. “Did you mark off the spot we encountered the sirens?”

“Of course I did.” Minhyuk took the map from his breast pocket, unfolding it for Bin to see proof of the deed. “It’s halfway between  Mul'ahye-gun and Azaou Ta. We just need to make a wider berth around the two next time, I guess.”

Bin nodded his head and examined the map briefly before his attention suddenly moved to the ocean. Myungjun watched him, curious, for he did not hear a humming. He heard nothing, really, and asked, “Bin?”

His friend didn’t respond. Eyes narrowed, Bin edged toward the side of the ship. Minhyuk followed, a hand out in caution, trying to gauge the situation the best he could. “Bin?” he repeated. “What’s wrong?”

Bin pointed out at the sea. “I heard something,” he said. “Maybe it was a fish. A big fish.”

Sirens were still on Minhyuk’s mind. Having just lost his entire crew to a family of sirens, he was understandably nervous and knowing that Bin was hearing movement out at sea, Minhyuk couldn’t help but fear for Bin’s safety.

He peered out, trying his best to spot whatever had made the sound, but could see nothing.

“Maybe you’ve been up too long,” he suggested. “Maybe you should go to bed.”

Bin spoke, but Minhyuk, unable to hear what was said, nudged his shoulder and pointed to his own ears.

“Sorry,” he read from Bin’s lips. “But I’m not going to go to bed unless you do.”

Minhyuk frowned. He picked at the wood underneath his fingers, not caring too much about keeping his ship absolutely perfect. 

“You won’t go to bed, will you?” Bin asked, sighing.

Minhyuk couldn’t sleep after such travesties. His entire crew had just been eaten by sirens. He allowed the death of many of his own men. The fear of sirens stuck with him, even after he had moved out from their territory. He was scared the sirens would follow him, or else they would appear elsewhere.

He was scared to lose Bin.

“Then I guess I’m going to be up, too,” Bin declared, pulling back from the edge of the ship. “We should play a game in your cabin.”

“I should still steer the ship. We’ll reach land in a day or two. If I go to sleep now, we risk losing our course.” 

One of the men on his crew would typically take over duties at night, so the others could sleep. There was a reason Minhyuk needed a good-sized crew, and now that his crew was gone, he and Bin were forced to do all of the work on their own.

It would be a hard couple of days, days with no sleep and no chance to slack off, but it was all that Minhyuk could do to keep them afloat.

“Then, like I said, I won’t go to bed until you do.” Bin wrapped an arm around Minhyuk’s shoulder. Up close, his lips were a little easier to read. Up close, Minhyuk could  _ feel _ him talking, and he enjoyed such a feeling. “And I’ll stick by your side so I can keep you up all night. I know you get sleepy.”

“You’re the one who sleeps easier than me,” Minhyuk complained. Bin laughed. Minhyuk had never heard him laugh, but it felt nice. His whole body shook and he stumbled in his steps. 

In response to Minhyuk’s quip, Bin mussed his hair, then gestured to the wheel. “Come on, let’s go back to steering. Maybe I’m just losing my mind.”

But if Bin was losing his mind, he was losing it all throughout the night. He kept running back to the edge of the ship and staring out at the waters in vain. Minhyuk followed him each and every time, hands wrapped around Bin’s arm.  _ Just in case, _ he kept whispering to Bin, who would smile widely and hug him close.

Nothing was in the water. Nothing was appearing. The moon sunk as sunrise rose in the distance, and Minhyuk draped himself over the wheel of his ship and groaned.

Bin, who kept splashing himself with seawater in order to keep himself awake, patted Minhyuk’s back. He said something, and Minhyuk turned his head and raised his eyebrows, a silent question for the statement to be repeated.

“I said, are you tired, too?”

“Oh, god. Dreadfully so,” Minhyuk muttered. He yawned and turned to his map. “We’ll be there by sundown,” he said. “So as long as we can hold out by then, I think things will be fine. The wind is on our side so we won’t be stuck, at least.”

Bin nodded his head, a wet finger tracing over the map. Minhyuk would’ve scolded him about keeping that damned seawater away from his documents and mapping material, but then Bin scrambled away suddenly, eyes wide.

Minhyuk, knowing he heard the sound once more, grabbed the back of his shirt and followed him. “What is it?” Minhyuk asked, though it was quite a pointless question. It was a splashing noise. It was a fish, or a whale, or something wrong with the ship, or anything except for a siren.

If it was a siren, wouldn’t Bin be charmed by this point? Sirens didn’t follow and plan, did they? Minhyuk didn’t know. He didn’t think he would ever have to wonder, either, for sirens had only ever attacked and left before. This was weird. It didn’t follow the pattern of sirens. Therefore, it wasn’t a siren.

Or so Minhyuk prayed and hoped as he and Bin peered over the edge of the ship once more.

“Nothing,” Minhyuk murmured. “Nothing again. Maybe we’re losing our minds. We’ve been up for a while.”

Bin beside him sighed. Minhyuk could feel it in his body, as his shoulders sagged and air escaped his lungs.

“I know I’ve been hearing something,” Bin said. “I’m not going crazy. I’m not losing my mind.”

He stayed for a bit longer, staring out over the ship, but soon gave up. He pulled back and tapped Minhyuk’s shoulder. When Minhyuk looked at him, Bin gave a soft, tired smile and said, “I’ll steer. You can continue working on that map.”

“Alright.” Minhyuk wasn’t going to argue that. He wanted a break from being behind the steering wheel, anyway, and if Bin was volunteering then that was solved.

He stayed, though, even as Bin left, watching the waters and wondering what on earth Bin had been hearing. Perhaps it was a shark. Perhaps it was a dolphin. Minhyuk, curious, stood on the tips of his toes and leaned over the edge, gazing into the waters.

He saw something move. It looked like a shiny fin, of some sort. It went down rather fast but Minhyuk, excited at the prospect of finally finding Bin’s mystery noise, yelled, “Bin! Bin, come here!”

Bin had likely just gotten to the wheel, but he rushed to Minhyuk’s side in a matter of seconds. He said something, and Minhyuk had to smack his shoulder and gesture for a repeat. “Did you find it?” Bin asked, only looking briefly at Minhyuk before turning back to the sea.

Minhyuk cleared his throat. He no longer saw the fin, but he said, “A fin. Not sure what it is. It was swimming down.”

After a few minutes of intense searching, Minhyuk was ready to give up. However, he suddenly spotted the fin, a little further away, and he grabbed onto Bin and desperately pointed to their left. 

The fin was coming closer into view, and Minhyuk realized it wasn’t just a fin of a random sea creature. It was the fin of a siren. He could see its body under water, covered with various orange scales. It had long arms with pectoral fins to help it swim, a lighter color of orange than the rest of its body.

Its head popped out of water. It had orange hair, as bright as the sun shining above them, and a light scattering of scales across its neck. It stared, eyes wide and yellow, at Minhyuk and Bin.

Bin said something, but Minhyuk didn’t bother to look. Minhyuk held tightly onto him, in fear of the siren taking him away. 

“We need to kill it,” Minhyuk whispered. “This might be another siren home we’ve stumbled into, and what if this one reports back to the others?”

Bin turned to look at Minhyuk. He said something else, but, once more, Minhyuk kept his eyes solely onto the siren.

Something was weird. The sirens usually started to sing instantly. They liked to hunt and they liked to kill. This one, however, was doing nothing. It floated in the water, a curious gaze on its expression as it returned Minhyuk’s stare.

“Why isn’t it killing you?” Minhyuk asked, finally turning to look at Bin. “Why are you unaffected?”

Bin looked just as confused as Minhyuk felt. “It’s not singing,” he replied, astonished by the odd siren. “That’s what I heard, too, splashing around us, but...why did it follow us if it wasn’t going to try and kill us?”

The siren wasn’t moving its mouth. The siren wasn’t trying to drag them into the depths of the ocean. If Minhyuk had to describe the expression on its face, he would go with curious.

The siren was  _ curious _ .

But sirens had seen ships before. Sirens  _ longed _ for ships, because ships meant food and entertainment. This siren seemed not to care much for any sustenance it might receive, but instead its eyes scanned the entirety of the ship, wide with curiosity and interest.

Bin moved. Minhyuk turned to follow him, fearful still of what this strange siren might do, but Bin didn’t move to go off the ship. He went down to the captain’s quarters where he took one of Minhyuk’s guns from off the wall. When he noticed Minhyuk had followed him, he loaded the gun and said, “Just in case.”

They should go ahead and kill it. Keeping it alive would decrease their chances of survival. No one knew exactly how sirens operated, for no one had been able to stay alive long enough to study them. They worked in groups, though, that much was sure, and the fact that a lone siren was scoping out his ship was enough to make Minhyuk worry.

However, as they went back to the upper deck of the ship, the siren was nowhere to be seen.

“Great,” Bin muttered, scanning the open waters with a dissatisfied expression. “Now I’ll be panicking until we’re able to catch sight of it again.”

Minhyuk had to agree. The siren could be anywhere, really, but it likely stuck around the ship. Either that, or maybe it was bringing forth more sirens in an attempt to take Bin and Minhyuk down together.

“I wish we had our weapons earlier,” Minhyuk groaned. “We could’ve killed it when we got the chance.”

“We’ll be to land soon enough,” Bin told him, wrapping his free arm around Minhyuk’s shoulder. “And we won’t have to worry about damn sirens close to land.”

That was true, but as Minhyuk turned back to look at the empty waters, anxiety brewed in his stomach.

Something was going to go wrong. He just knew it.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

There was a ship gaining on them. It was a smaller ship, a faster ship, and Minhyuk’s anxiety worsened.

“They aren’t flying any flags,” he pointed out to Bin, passing his spyglass over. Bin said something, but Minhyuk didn’t bother to look up at him. He was too concerned with the motivations of the ship nearing close.

“Maybe fishermen,” he said, hopeful he could convince himself that was the case. He looked up at Bin. “Fishermen?”

Bin pursed his lips, and when he spoke, it was so mumbled that Minhyuk had difficulty reading his lips. He caught the words  _ maybe _ and  _ far away _ and tried his best to figure out what it was Bin did say. Asking for a repeat was cumbersome and bothersome.

_ Maybe, they’re too far away to tell _ was probably what Bin had said, and Minhyuk decided to go with that. “Could they be pirates?” he asked. “Pirates don’t usually fly any flags so they won’t be caught.”

“I hope not,” Bin stated. He looked through the spyglass. A curse left his lips, something akin to  _ fuck them _ , but he said nothing else.

It would be difficult to outrun the ship with only two men. Their boat required a larger crew in order to work efficiently, and he and Bin did not equal a large crew. As fear and worry brewed within Minhyuk’s stomach, Bin continued to search for signs of who they were dealing with.

An hour later, the ship had definitely gained some steam. Able to see better now, Bin recognized some features he saw, some clothes the other sailors were wearing. “They have weapons,” he told Minhyuk, who had stationed himself at the wheel in an effort to swerve a bit and throw the ship off their tracks. “Minhyuk, I think those are pirates.”

“Great,” Minhyuk fussed. First sirens had destroyed most of his crew, and now pirates were left to destroy the last bit. 

Bin frowned and lowered his spyglass. “We should gather our weapons.”

“How many men do they have?”

Bin looked again, then reported his findings back to Minhyuk. “At least a dozen.”

A dozen men were not easy to fight off. Had Minhyuk’s crew still been alive, then Minhyuk would certainly gather the weapons. Without them, though, he and Bin would be quickly dispatched. The pirates likely had guns and swords, maybe arrows. It would be over in an instant if either he or Bin held up a single weapon.

“Let’s not fight back,” Minhyuk replied. He hated making such a difficult decision. If they didn’t fight back, the goods and merchandise they were delivering to Muju would be taken away. Minhyuk would have to explain his incompetence to the people who trusted him to deliver the goods on time and in perfect condition. Captains who were unable to stop pirates from boarding and stealing were not treated kindly in the mainland, and, at best, he would lose clients.

At worst, he would lose his job.

“Hide the expensive wares,” he told Bin, nudging his shoulder. “We have ale barrels below deck. Dump them out and hide some of the pricier goods in those barrels. Find any spot that could be overlooked and stuff things wherever you can.”

Bin was quick to move. While many mistook Bin as the captain and Minhyuk as the quartermaster, it was quite the opposite. Minhyuk was good at giving orders; Bin was good at heeding those orders. He listened well and acted fast and never once made Minhyuk regret choosing him as second in command.

He ran away, and Minhyuk turned his gaze back to the pirate ship. He licked his lips, nerves growing stronger, but noticed something closer to his own ship.

The siren was back.

Its head just barely peeked out from the water, hair wet and eyes wide with curiosity. It stared at Minhyuk for a few seconds before turning to face the pirate ship. 

Its head cocked. It pointed, then stared over at Minhyuk again.

Minhyuk had no idea what it was trying to ask, and he stupidly pointed, too.

When his finger moved, the siren smiled.

Minhyuk had never before seen a siren smile. They were scum of the ocean, only around to cause mayhem and havoc on innocent sailors. They chewed on the bones of their victims, granting them agonizing and chaotic deaths. They didn’t  _ smile _ . Spawn of the devil were unable to smile, so Minhyuk had thought, but this one smiled brightly up at Minhyuk’s finger.

It pointed again, dramatically this time, over to the pirate ship.

Minhyuk didn’t smile back. He frowned instead and shook his head. Why was it happy? Did it want them dead?

The siren noticed Minhyuk’s frown. It frowned, too, and jabbed a finger in the air, still aiming it at the pirate ship.

Minhyuk couldn’t believe it. The siren was copying his movements and expressions. The siren seemed to be asking about the ship, in a weird sort of way. But why? And, more importantly,  _ how? _ Sirens had never communicated with humans before. It was unheard of.

What was this siren trying to say?

He reached down to his belt to remove the knife he kept on him at all times. When he held it up, the siren cowered in on itself.

“Interesting,” Minhyuk mumbled. He brandished it, pointing it at the ship, then sliced through the air. A demonstration, he decided, was in order. He wanted to show the siren what he wished to do to the damn pirates.

The siren still seemed a bit fearful, but it perked up a little bit when it realized the knife was no longer a threat. It pointed back to the ship and sliced its own finger through the air, then glanced at Minhyuk.

Its eyes were hopeful and desperate. They sought attention and confirmation, a look Minhyuk had never seen before.

This siren was weird. This siren was different.

The siren made the movement again, still staring at Minhyuk, still waiting for a reaction.

Minhyuk nodded his head.

It was the right thing to do, for the siren grinned. Minhyuk could see fangs poking out from its set of otherwise normal teeth.

_ Interesting _ , he thought to himself, peering closer at the siren. It was happy its movements had been noticed. It was happy Minhyuk had given it a nod.

What the fuck  _ was _ this siren trying to do?

He didn’t want to worry about the siren’s actions, however. He had more pressing matters to attend to, and he hoped the siren would leave him alone as he focused on the ship speeding closer and closer to them.

Minhyuk was unsure of the siren’s plans, but he knew exactly what the pirates had come for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two of my siren fic
> 
> chapter two of many

There was nothing to do except to await the pirates. They had a ship that was faster and better manned, and so they quickly caught up to Minhyuk’s merchant ship. From their short distance away, Minhyuk was better able to see the faces of the pirates on board, even without his spyglass. They looked downright greedy and excited, and Minhyuk stood next to Bin as the pirates readied themselves to come on board.

“This is ridiculous,” Bin said, glancing down at Minhyuk. “I can’t believe we’re unable to fight them off.”

Minhyuk agreed; his hands were itching to grab onto a sword or knife or gun. But he knew he must remain calm in the face of the chaos that was before them. Should he or Bin act out, they would likely be killed.

“Pirates will sometimes leave crew members alive if they play along,” Minhyuk explained, staring back at the pirate ship before them. “I intend for both of us to survive, and we must play along in order to survive.”

Bin shifted where he stood. Perhaps he was nervous. Minhyuk couldn’t blame him.

“The siren knows they are bad,” he added, hopeful that might bring some sort of comfort to Bin. He knew, though, as the words left his mouth that he shouldn’t speak of the siren. Minhyuk hated sirens and Bin hated sirens; there was no need to bring it up. Besides, Minhyuk wasn’t certain if the siren had actually understood his gestures. It seemed they had a mutual understanding, but sirens were impossible to study. All they wanted was food, and all they did was murder.

Bin shoved Minhyuk, effectively gaining his attention. “Did you see it again?” he asked, his eyes wide.

Minhyuk nodded. “It was curious about the pirate ship. I tried my best to show it that they were the bad guys. I...I think it followed along. I’m not sure.”

“You  _ think? _ ” Bin sighed and rolled his eyes. “Hyuk, sirens don’t follow along. They don’t think like we do. They’re animals, and all they want is human flesh.”

This siren wasn’t singing, though. This siren was smiling and making weird movements and copying Minhyuk’s own hand gestures.

“It smiled at me,” Minhyuk muttered.

“Because it likely wishes to eat you.”

It could be so. Perhaps the siren was imagining a tasty meal. Perhaps the siren was waiting for the pirates to kill him so it could drag his corpse down to the depths of the ocean and feed its disgusting family.

Minhyuk felt bile in his throat and he turned back to the pirates, who had now pulled alongside Minhyuk’s ship and were readying to board. All Minhyuk could think of was that damn siren dragging down his crew members and ripping them apart, blood dripping down its chin as it relished in the terror it created.

Minhyuk would rather deal with the pirates than he would with the siren.

The pirate captain was the first to board. His crew flanked him, swords out and pointing toward Minhyuk and Bin, who stared back in defiance. 

The captain spoke. His beard covered much of his mouth, and Minhyuk had a difficult time understanding what was being said. He managed to read a few words; the one that stuck out most was  _ crew _ . It was a question, as well, and Minhyuk quickly discerned what was being asked.

“Our crew was lured to their deaths by sirens,” he explained. The captain and his men looked over at Minhyuk, eyes wide, and so Minhyuk added, “We’re all that’s left. I swear to you.”

The captain said something else.  _ Funny  _ and  _ speak _ were two words Minhyuk was able to read. He sighed and pursed his lips.

_ Why do you speak so funny? _ was a common question aimed toward Minhyuk. While he had learned to speak as a young boy, when he was able to hear, his speech  _ did _ become a bit slurred later in his life. It was difficult to talk when he couldn’t hear how his own voice was forming the words, and the quality most certainly suffered. It was why Bin usually spoke for him, so as to not appear too weak in front of enemies or those who doubted his leadership abilities.

In this case, he knew he ought to have stayed quiet.

Minhyuk looked to Bin for an explanation. “He’s deaf,” Bin said. It was quick and simple, likely spoken harshly. Bin was usually very harsh. Minhyuk hoped he would soon tone it down in front of the pirates.

The pirate captain was uninterested. He turned to his crew instead and said something. The noise Minhyuk heard was loud, so he could only assume it was being yelled.

“What are they doing?” Minhyuk asked Bin.

Bin frowned as the crew hurried off below deck. “Searching for the goods,” he said. Perhaps he mouthed it. Minhyuk couldn’t hear a sound come from him as he talked. 

Minhyuk nodded as his heart sped up. He wondered if he ought to have left the goods in their original spaces. By hiding the expensive wares, he was forcing the pirates to either search harder or leave empty-handed, neither of which was an option they would appreciate. Minhyuk bit down on his lower lip in worry and watched as the captain continued to shout orders to his men, and to speak with them when they came up with the less-expensive goods.

Of course, the captain soon caught on. He began to notice that they were receiving next to nothing, and he turned an angry glare onto Bin and Minhyuk.

Bin tensed as the captain strode forward. Minhyuk had to read the captain’s lips carefully. He managed to understand things this time.

“Where are your expensive goods?” the captain asked.

Bin stood tall and straight, glaring right back at him. He said something, but Minhyuk didn’t look up to read his lips. He watched the captain warily, the worry expanding in his chest.

The captain talked again, likely a response to whatever Bin had said. “I can easily kill you right here and now and take the entire ship for myself.”

Fear gripped at Minhyuk’s heart. He would  _ never _ allow anyone to kill Bin. He would die himself before that happened, and so he stepped forward, shielding Bin from whatever the captain wished to do.

“Touch him and die,” he threatened, hopeful his voice was steady and clear.

The captain made a movement with his mouth. Perhaps it was a laugh. Minhyuk couldn’t really tell, but he certainly didn’t  _ speak _ , in any case. When he did talk, his words were loud, based on what Minhyuk could hear of the humming noise. He caught the words  _ really _ and  _ defend _ and  _ with your life _ .

He wanted to respond, but the captain shoved him back beside Bin. Minhyuk could read his lips better, though he couldn’t help but notice the words were directed to Bin and not to him. “Control your sailor better, or else you will both face the consequences.”

Bin said something, possibly a scathing remark of some sort. Minhyuk knew Bin rather well; there was no way Bin  _ wasn’t _ giving a scathing remark.

The pirate captain bristled. “Your impudence is beginning to get on my nerves,” he snapped. He reached forward and smacked Bin’s hat away from his head. Bin barely winced at the movement, and Minhyuk admired his bravery in such a time.

He couldn’t admire it for long, however, because the moment Bin’s hat was away, the captain grabbed a tuft of Bin’s hair and pulled.

Bin stumbled forward. His mouth was open, likely in some sort of pained cry, as he reached to pry the hands off of him.

The captain was dragging him, however, and Bin was unable to escape from his grip. Minhyuk watched, transfixed in horror, as he realized what was about to be done. Some of the pirates had brought a few sandbags from below deck, with the ropes still attached and outstretched toward Bin’s body. Bin’s eyes widened and he struggled even more so.

Minhyuk could no longer watch. He knew he had to act, and he had to act fast. His knife still hung in the belt by his side, and with determination filling his lungs, he strode forward and pulled it out.

By the time the captain had looked in his direction, Minhyuk managed to stab the knife into his shoulder.

There was a loud noise. Maybe it was the captain screaming. That was likely it.

The pirates dropped the sandbags on the ship. Minhyuk felt the wood underneath his feet vibrate, but he remained still as the pirates hurried toward him. One pirate attempted to help tug the knife from the captain’s shoulder. Once the knife was out, the captain tossed Bin aside and turned his menacing, furious stare onto Minhyuk.

“You bastard!” he snapped, a hand gripping his wound. “Perhaps it is  _ you _ who should be killed instead.”

Minhyuk wanted to remain determined and brave, just as Bin was, but he balked in the face of death. His knees shook and his lips quivered with the thought of his life ending so suddenly.

The pirates who had grabbed onto him shoved him to the ground. It was rough, and the breath was knocked out of Minhyuk. From where he was, he could see Bin struggling underneath the grip of another pirate, reaching out for him, calling for him.

Minhyuk was frightened, and he hated seeing Bin in such distress, but he figured this was much more preferable. He would rather die than to live without Bin. Hell, he  _ couldn’t _ live without Bin. Bin was his ears. Bin was his mouth. Bin helped him when no one would listen to him. Bin helped him when no one would talk to him. A life without Bin would be a miserable one, indeed.

It wasn’t a life worth living.

Sandbags were tied to his feet. There were three of them, Minhyuk noticed when he got a quick chance to look over his shoulder, and the pirates seemed to be in agreement that three was enough to drown a man.

He was dragged by his hair, just as Bin was, to the side of the ship. His hands were tied behind his back, thus ruining any chance of escape he might have had before.

The situation was hopeless. His life was about to end in a slow and agonizing death underwater. He would drown, gasping for air to the very last, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to hide the tears that were welling up. He didn’t  _ want _ to die! He was young, only twenty-three, and still longed to experience the rest of his life. He wanted to grow old and buy a house on the shore and live next door to Bin. He wanted to own a fleet of merchant ships even before that, to become wealthy and recognized. He wanted to help people and save people and he didn’t want to die like  _ this _ .

He opened his eyes briefly. Bin was still down, his own hands tied and his face pressed to the floor of the ship by a pirate’s boot. Still, even from the odd angle, the look of horror he gave Minhyuk was painful enough.

Minhyuk had to keep his eyes closed the rest of the time, and as he was pushed into the ocean, he realized he would die with Bin’s expression stuck in his mind.

He was first overcome with the icy, unfamiliar chill of water. The sandbags weighed him down. He sunk down, down,  _ down _ , further below water than he ever wanted to be. He opened his eyes again, struggling against the ropes tied around his hands and his feet but he found his efforts to be useless. 

He was as good as dead.

His eyes traveled upward. He could see the shadow of the ship leaving him, and then there was light. There was so much light above the surface, just out of his reach. It was something he always took for granted, the air and the light, and now it was unattainable. 

If only he had kept his mouth shut! If only he and Bin had remained silent and allowed the pirates to have everything, then he wouldn’t be sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Shame washed over him. Guilt washed over him.

Panic, mostly, washed over him, colder even than the icy grip of the water itself.

He continued to struggle, though his body was growing weak. He longed to breathe in but he knew he would regret it if he even tried. His fingers scraped against rope and he wanted to cry out, for it was impossible to loosen the hold of his bonds.

_ Stupid _ , he thought as his vision began to blur.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid _ .

He saw something in the distance, however, and he stopped his struggles.

That siren.

It was swimming close to him, and Minhyuk could see just how magnificent it looked underwater. Its scales glimmered with the bit of light the sea allowed in and its yellow eyes seemed even brighter somehow. Its hair was tousled, moving in sync with the water, and its fin propelled its body gracefully through the ocean.

It stopped in front of Minhyuk and looked him up and down as if confused.

Then, suddenly, it leaned in, close to his face. Minhyuk’s nose bumped against its nose and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He was going to die an even worse death, likely. The siren would rip him apart as he drowned. The pain would be unbearable, and he prayed to the gods to kill him fast and allow him to fall unconscious before the siren could try anything.

He didn’t fall unconscious, but neither did he feel any pain. Instead, he felt a pair of cold lips press against his own, and he opened his eyes in shock.

The siren was kissing him.

Its eyes were open as it gazed upon him, as if judging his reaction. Minhyuk didn’t  _ know _ how to react. He was dying, drowning, and yet this creature was kissing him as no one ever had before.

The siren drew back, and then gestured to Minhyuk’s mouth, its short claws nearly scratching his face. Minhyuk struggled to keep conscious, to stop from succumbing to death. The siren mimed taking a deep breath, then gestured to Minhyuk.

He was confused. What did that mean? Did the siren know he was dying? Was the siren aware he was suffocating? 

The siren continued to gesture, frantic and excited and Minhyuk decided to take the plunge. He would die anyway, he assumed, so he might as well breathe and figure out what the siren was so worked up over.

He opened his mouth and gasped for breath.

To his surprise, he managed to find that breath.

He took a few deep breaths, eyes wide as he gazed upon the siren. That damned siren, the one who had been following him and trying to communicate, had somehow breathed life into him again. The siren had  _ saved _ him, which was unprecedented. Sirens never saved people. Sirens only killed and ate people; they never kissed people to allow them the chance to breathe.

As Minhyuk pondered this oddity, the siren dipped down and grabbed the weights from Minhyuk’s legs. It worked diligently on untying them, but as Minhyuk watched its fingers, he could feel the breath leaving him again. He was, once more, suffocating, and he kicked his legs in an effort to get the siren’s attention.

It worked. The siren looked up in alarm, then kissed him again. Its hands cupped Minhyuk’s cheeks, a human-like thumb rubbing at his skin. Minhyuk looked at its hands the moment it pulled back from the kiss. It had webbed hands. Interesting.

When Minhyuk looked back at it, the siren smiled, sweet and innocent, before working on the ropes again.

After a minute of useless tangling, the siren seemed to get frustrated. It bit through the ropes instead, razor-sharp teeth cutting through hard knots. Minhyuk was fascinated and he watched as the sandbags fell to the ocean floor.

He was no longer being pulled down, and in his excitement to get back to the surface, he accidentally kicked the siren.

The siren swam backwards, keeping a small distance from Minhyuk, who tried his best to apologize. No words came out, obviously, especially not underwater, so he made noises instead, then spun himself around and wiggled his fingers, still tied behind his back. 

The siren, trusting him again, made quick work of those ropes, too. When Minhyuk was finally freed, he worked on swimming upwards and the siren stayed by his side all the while, offering him kisses when his breathing became erratic. 

They made it to the surface. His first breath of fresh air was euphoric. Minhyuk gulped down the oxygen, panting for more and more, flailing to keep himself up from under the water. It wasn’t until the siren stilled him that Minhyuk finally took a good look around at the expanse of ocean before him.

“Bin,” Minhyuk gasped out, pushing his bangs aside. He tread the water but he was already tired from the earlier ordeal. He wanted to be on land where his feet didn’t have to work so hard. The siren beside him made it all appear so easy. 

He turned to the siren now, panic feeling his limbs. He could go for a bit more, he decided, if it meant he could find Bin. “Where’s Bin?” 

The siren raised its eyebrows. It didn’t understand; Minhyuk could see the confusion in its eyes. Likely no one had ever spoken to it before. Perhaps it had a language it shared among the sirens. They sang in a bizarre language, Bin had told him. Did they speak it, too?

“My ship,” Minhyuk said, deciding to try something new. “Where’s my ship?”

Once more, the siren only stared.

Minhyuk cussed lightly, then decided to take one more look around. When he had first broken the surface, he was still frightened and hysterical, struggling to breathe and swim. Now, though, he was more clear-minded and it didn’t take him long to spot his ship in the distance. The pirate ship was there, too, but nowhere near as close as it had been before.

He pointed to the ship and exclaimed, “That’s my ship!”

The siren followed his gaze. It nodded when it, too, saw the ship. 

“I need...I need to get there,” Minhyuk said.

The siren cocked its head and looked back at Minhyuk.

It would be impossible to talk to such a creature. Obviously, like all animals, it didn’t understand Korean. It likely didn’t understand any human language, so communicating would be ridiculous to even attempt.

“Fuck,” Minhyuk whispered, realizing he would have to find a way to the ship himself. He would have to swim the entire length, and it looked rather daunting. Even on a good day his swimming was mediocre, at best, and today had certainly not been a good day.

Still, he was determined to reach Bin and ensure his safety and so he began to swim. As he did, the siren swam alongside him. Minhyuk could feel it every so often as his arms came up out of the water, and when he spared a glance, it smiled over at him.

Minhyuk stopped for a brief second before angrily pointing at the boat. “I need to get over there!” he snapped.

The siren pointed at the boat, too, then frowned. It jabbed its finger, reminiscent to how it had reacted to the ship just last night, and Minhyuk gaped at it.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. He tried to smile, as difficult as it was to do while treading the water, his clothes drenched and weighing him down. Then he pointed at the ship again, still smiling.

The siren smiled, too, excited it was able to communicate  _ something _ . Minhyuk wanted to try talking to it again, to ask if it could help in some form, but before he could say anything, the siren kissed him.

Despite the kiss being cold and wet, despite the kiss being with a damn  _ siren _ of all things, it was still a little comforting. Minhyuk knew know that the siren’s kiss meant no harm; in fact, the siren was simply trying to grant him the ability to breathe underwater. It was kind, really,  _ especially _ for a siren.

When it drew back, it pointed at the ship and smiled again before dragging Minhyuk underwater. Then they swam.

With the siren leading the way, they swam fast, faster than Minhyuk thought humanly possible. He was no longer struggling; when he did start to falter, the siren would stop to kiss him again, just as it had done earlier when rescuing him. The kisses would help him to breathe again, and the siren would only pull away in satisfaction when Minhyuk grasped its hand tightly. 

In no time at all, they were back to Minhyuk’s ship. Minhyuk popped his head above water and gasped for that sweet, sweet surface air. The siren came alongside him, peering at the ship with interest. 

It poked his shoulder, then pointed at the ship, its large, yellow eyes appearing to ask a question. Still, it didn’t talk, and Minhyuk was confused until it jabbed a finger at the ship and smiled. 

Minhyuk nodded, also smiling, and then the siren grinned, showing its fangs to Minhyuk once more.

He wasn’t here to ease the siren’s conscious, however. He was only here for Bin, and so he grabbed one of the wood pieces jutting out from the side of the ship to hoist himself up out of the water. The siren’s webbed hands hovered just below, as if ready to catch him should things go wrong.

“Bin!” Minhyuk yelled, and though he knew he would be unable to hear an answer, he continued, “I’m here!”

He grasped the edge of the ship and then rolled on board, breathless and spent. Though exhausted, he still scrambled up, eyes widening when he found Bin tied to one of the masts. He was gagged as well, but he perked up upon seeing Minhyuk. He struggled in his bondage and Minhyuk, dripping wet, hurried to save him.

Once Bin’s gag was free and his hands were untied, he embraced Minhyuk tightly, squeezing out whatever air the siren had given him. His fingers ran through Minhyuk’s hair, plastering the bangs back to his forehead, and he kissed Minhyuk’s cheek, harsh and protective in his movements.

When Minhyuk pulled back, he noticed a few tears falling off of Bin’s cheeks, splattering onto the deck below their feet.

“Don’t cry, silly,” Minhyuk said, offering Bin a small smile. He cupped Bin’s cheek and used his thumb to wipe away any additional tears. “You’re a strong quartermaster; act like one.”

“I thought you were dead,” said Bin, and though Minhyuk was unable to hear those words, he knew Bin was sobbing them out, choking on them, likely having difficulties even forming the word  _ dead _ , based on how he stammered. 

“Ah, I won’t die so easily,” Minhyuk reassured him, planting a soft kiss on his nose. “That’s ridiculous to even think of such a concept. I’m always going to live, and you must always translate for me.”

Bin ducked his head. Minhyuk could feel laughter rumble from his body, but it was overtaken once more by tears. With no hesitation, Minhyuk wrapped his arms around Bin, cradling his friend’s head close to his chest. Bin gripped at him, as if afraid to lose him again, and they sat together in their mutual relief and comfort, holding onto each other for dear life.

When Bin pulled away a few minutes later, he kissed Minhyuk for a second time, then asked, “How did you come back? I swore you would die; there was no way to free yourself.”

“A miracle, really,” Minhyuk replied. “And I had help.” He glanced to the side where he had climbed from and noticed, with some surprise, the siren was on the boat, too. It must have followed him. It must have learned how to climb.

_ Interesting _ , Minhyuk thought, but Bin tensed in his hold.

He said something, a deep hum emitting from his mouth, and Minhyuk looked at him. “A siren!” Bin was saying. “Minhyuk, a fucking  _ siren! _ ”

“It’s a good siren,” Minhyuk said, remaining calm. He had no reason to fear the siren; it had done nothing but rescue him.

But though he tried his best to assure Bin the siren was practically harmless, Bin was still shaken by the entire ordeal, and by his life-long fear of sirens. Sirens were evil; they had been evil for generations and they would remain evil for generations to come. Minhyuk could understand, then, why Bin was reluctant to accept the fact that a siren had been the one to rescue him.

In order to quell his fears, Minhyuk moved away from Bin’s grasp, smiling at him. “Watch,” he said, then moved toward the siren.

Bin reached out for him, but Minhyuk pushed his hands away. “Bin, stop,” he demanded. “I swear to you, he’s good. He’s helped me a lot.”

The siren watched on, curious. It appeared not to know much, if anything, about human customs. It didn’t understand their language, nor did it understand most appropriate body movements. As Minhyuk edged closer to it, it didn’t draw back in fear. It watched him, head cocked, and then a smile came on its face.

“See?” Minhyuk called back to Bin. He glanced back at his friend, who watched with absolute horror. “Bin, stop. This siren is unlike any of the others I’ve ever seen before.”

Something touched him. Minhyuk gave a start before turning his head to the siren, who had crawled close and had reached out to grab at Minhyuk’s hand. It smiled at him, eyes crinkling with mirth and fangs displayed from such a wide grin. Minhyuk couldn’t help but think that the siren was adorable.

He never thought he would call a siren  _ adorable _ .

“Cute,” he murmured, bending down to the siren’s height. He kept a hold of its hand, eyeing the webbed fingers and sharp claws with intrigue. These hands could tear apart a human man. Those fangs, too, on that smiley face could rip through rope and bones and human flesh. Yet the siren remained sweet and kind, intent on  _ saving _ Minhyuk’s life, not destroying it. 

Once eye-level to the siren, he noticed the loud humming from behind him; Bin was yelling. The siren noticed it, as well, and cowered back ever so slightly, the smile falling from its expression and worry overriding any joy that had been there before.

Minhyuk didn’t like such a fearful look, and so he glanced back to Bin. “Stop it,” he snapped. “You’re scaring it.”

Bin kept his distance, so whatever he said was a little difficult to figure out. Minhyuk only knew from context clues, however, from the fact he was cozying up to a demonic sea creature, that Bin was panicking.

He huffed and turned back to the siren, then said, loud enough for Bin to hear, “He saved me. I was going to die, and he managed to breathe oxygen into my body and break my bindings. He led me to the surface and kept me alive. Then, when I despaired I would never swim to the ship, he grabbed my hand and helped me along. I’m only alive right now because of  _ him _ .”

He realized how important the siren was, how much he truly  _ had _ helped. Minhyuk swallowed thickly as he remembered the crushing darkness of the ocean. It was supposed to be his watery grave. It had been terrifying, stuck there alone, waiting to drown.

“He’s wonderful,” Minhyuk whispered. “You could’ve eaten me at any time but you chose to save me instead.”

The siren, sensing Minhyuk’s calm demeanor, straightened again, though he eyed Bin warily.

Bin came closer. Minhyuk could feel his footsteps from behind, and he held his breath until Bin inched close enough to crouch by Minhyuk’s side. He shook, his body pressing against Minhyuk’s, but otherwise chose to stay.

Minhyuk felt proud of his friend, and he tore his eyes away from the siren to smile at Bin. “See?” he teased. “He’s different from the other sirens. He isn’t singing or trying to eat us.”

“Why isn’t it singing?” Bin questioned. “They always sing.”

It was an inquiry Minhyuk had thought of, as well, and he narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure. Perhaps he isn’t hungry for human flesh?”

“They’re  _ all _ hungry for human flesh,” Bin countered. “That’s like saying a dog will refuse garbage, or a chicken will refuse grains. Animals eat what their body is supposed to eat.”

“Maybe he isn’t an animal.”

Bin sighed. “You’ve been calling this thing a  _ he _ . It’s not a  _ he _ . It still has a fin.”

And so it did. Minhyuk examined the fin before turning his gaze back to the siren. “He might have body parts that resemble a fish,” Minhyuk muttered, eyes passing over the siren’s chest. He could spot gills below the ribcage, something he had never seen before and something that explained the siren’s ability to breathe underwater. Otherwise, he looked rather human to Minhyuk; his face, at least, without the fangs showing, was human-like.

Minhyuk held out a tentative hand toward the siren’s face. The siren jerked back, startled, but Minhyuk murmured, “It’s alright. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

It took a few seconds, the siren’s bright, orange eyes boring into his own, before it gave in. It moved forward, and Minhyuk was able to rub a hand over the siren’s cheek.

The skin was soft, if not a bit wet. It felt like a human’s cheek. It didn’t feel weird. If Minhyuk closed his eyes, he could pretend that the siren  _ was _ a human, and he realized he didn’t have anything to fear. 

This siren wouldn’t ever hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall noticed the rocky/bin tag bc that's relevant

They made it to dock with no other interruptions, fortunately. The siren stuck nearby all the while, peeking up every so often from underneath the water, keeping watch on the ship. Minhyuk felt oddly at peace with the siren nearby, and he told Bin as much as the afternoon dragged on. “Is it odd that I find him a comforting presence?” he asked, staring down at the sea creature from where it tread water.

And Bin, sweet Bin, just rolled his eyes and chose not to answer that question.

They stuck close to each other, despite Bin’s reluctance to stare down the siren. Minhyuk was scared to lose Bin again. He had been so close twice already in the time span of a few days. First there was the siren nesting ground, where the rest of his men had been dragged under the ocean, and then there were the pirates, who had threatened to kill Bin in a slow and painful death. Minhyuk wondered if the siren would’ve saved Bin. He asked as much, too, as the sun began to set and as land grew closer and closer. 

“No,” was Bin’s quick and easy response. “It only seems to like  _ you _ .”

While it was true the siren seemed to only have eyes for Minhyuk, it still did glance at Bin from time to time, as if cautiously observing any differences he might have from Minhyuk. Minhyuk found it fascinating, and he wondered if the sirens had more intelligence than he had given them credit for.

When they pulled up to the dock, the siren had vanished. Minhyuk could understand why; docks were usually busy places, crowded with people who had no time or love for sirens. They killed indiscriminately, and if they saw a siren then they saw a threat. Minhyuk was happy for the siren, and he prayed to whatever gods were listening that it wouldn’t return.

Minhyuk mentioned it to Bin as they stepped off their ship. “The siren’s gone.”

Bin frowned and glanced behind him. When he turned back to Minhyuk, he said, “Perhaps it will stay gone.”

“Perhaps,” Minhyuk agreed, though he wasn’t sure if he quite liked that idea. The siren had rescued him, after all; wasn’t it only natural to feel some sort of odd attachment to a sea creature who had saved his life and offered no harm? Minhyuk didn’t know, for he had never been attached to a sea creature before. He had never been attached to anything except for Bin.

He clung to Bin’s arm with that thought in mind, keeping tight hold of him as they wound through paths of people. The docks were busy for the night, but Azaou Ta was a busy spot. People worked late into the night, either frazzled businessmen trying to get home or fishermen coming in from the sea, or else the ladies of the night, beckoning Minhyuk forward with heavy lipstick and short dresses. Minhyuk couldn’t understand what they were saying, for Bin whisked him away too fast to actually read their lips.

There was an inn nearby, one Minhyuk had stayed at before when he made port and grew weary of sleeping on a ship. Ships were fine and all, but sometimes Minhyuk preferred the solid ground and a bed that wouldn’t sway. 

And when he slept in an inn, then he could sleep beside Bin.

“Bin,” he said, pulling at Bin’s shirt. Bin looked at him, holding the door open, and Minhyuk stepped inside to the warmth. He had Bin’s attention, so he looked away and continued, “One room.”

If Bin said anything in response, Minhyuk did not stop to read his lips. He simply strode forward to the lady behind the counter, away from the men drinking beer in a corner, and asked, “Do you have any rooms available?”

She said something, but Minhyuk didn’t pay attention, so it was Bin who took over. His voice was light, Minhyuk always noticed, especially in comparison to the other men nearby. They had deep hums, low hums; Bin’s was crisp, like wind on a bright Autumn’s day, like a fresh apple Minhyuk would bite into. Minhyuk always enjoyed Bin’s voice, though he couldn’t hear it properly.

Bin nudged him and Minhyuk looked over. “One room,” Bin confirmed, accenting his words with a wink. “I didn’t know you were horny tonight, Minhyuk.”

“Shut up.” Minhyuk hid his blush as they trudged upstairs. Their way was lit with lanterns, casting their shadows on the wood paneling, and Minhyuk glanced at Bin’s shadow. It loomed over him, a large and hulking figure, a constant reminder in Minhyuk’s life that Bin was unattainable. 

That was the worst part, really, of their relationship. At some point of their merchant life, Bin had a proposition for Minhyuk. It had been an odd one, and Minhyuk still remembered staring at Bin in shock as the older man asked, “Would you mind having sex with me?”

It had been so bizarre that Minhyuk didn’t respond, thinking it was some sort of joke. Maybe the other men had put him up to it, so Minhyuk assumed, so he had laughed. But then Bin continued, “I’m serious. There aren’t any male prostitutes at any of our stops, and I sure as hell won’t ask anyone else on this ship since I hardly know them. I’m not going to fuck any of  _ them _ .”

Bin really  _ was _ serious. Minhyuk had harbored a crush on his quartermaster since they were younger, a crush that had blossomed within his heart with age, and now  _ this _ was how he was able to act on his feelings.

With meaningless sex.

It had always been meaningless to Bin. It was an outlet, a release, a safe way to engage in consensual sex without paying some shady prostitute. Male prostitutes were few and far between, and so Bin’s proposition had worked in both their favors. Out on the high seas with nary a whore house in sight, Bin and Minhyuk had sex. 

And then, when it was all said and done, Minhyuk was left with unfulfilled desires stirring within him as Bin kissed his cheek and said, “Thanks, Hyuk,” as if Minhyuk had done nothing more than help him carry a heavy barrel up the stairs of the ship. The sex  _ should _ mean something, and perhaps it meant something to Minhyuk, but Bin saw it only as a way to ease the lust that grew within him. 

So Minhyuk often didn’t initiate such sessions. He was embarrassed to, sometimes, and other times he was too weighed down with his love for Bin to ever think of engaging in another bout of meaningless sex, but  _ now _ he wanted it.

If Bin found it meaningless, that was fine. Minhyuk didn’t care what Bin would think of it. All that mattered was feeling Bin in every sense of the word, ensuring that Bin was alive in every sense of the word. He was still shaken from the day’s earlier ordeals, from their near-death experience, and he had to remind himself that Bin was there. Bin was a warm body hovering over his own, alive and alive and  _ alive _ .

Once upstairs, Minhyuk began removing clothes from his body and he said, “Tomorrow, will you go out and collect men from the docks who would like to join our crew?” It was never too difficult to find willing crewmen. They hovered around the docks, waiting for someone to ask them aboard. Bin was great at rifling through the bunches and picking out the most promising men he could find. Minhyuk trusted him, completely and fully, and left the delegations up to him. After all, many of the men wouldn’t listen if they knew he was deaf.

Bin came up behind him and kissed Minhyuk’s neck. Minhyuk craned his neck, turning to look at his friend, and Bin said, “I’ll get on it, don’t worry. You should pick up provisions while I’m out.”

“Alright,” Minhyuk said, and then Bin gathered him in his arms and kissed him.

It was Bin’s kisses, perhaps, that hurt the worst, for they were passionate and soft, but they were devoid of love. Minhyuk wanted  _ love _ . He craved for love and affection, but Bin’s eyes only held within them the love of a friend. Nothing more than that.

Usually whenever Bin kissed him, Minhyuk could only think of him, but this time his mind turned to someone else who had just kissed him earlier.

The siren.

The siren’s kisses weren’t anything like Bin’s. They weren’t passionate and lustful, nor did they hold any sort of friendly affection within them. Those kisses had been purely for survival.

And, yet, the siren had watched him closely with each and every kiss, as if deciding whether or not Minhyuk would push him away. The siren kept its eyes opened and kept a firm grip onto Minhyuk.  _ Don’t worry _ , it seemed to have said with its kind smile,  _ I’m here for you _ .

And as Bin gripped him and took him to bed, it was just,  _ I want this _ .

“Bin,” Minhyuk gasped out as Bin peppered kisses all over him, “Make sure the men know there’s a siren following us. They are not to kill the siren.”

Bin said something in a low hum, but Minhyuk squeezed his eyes shut and pretended he was in a universe where Bin would return the love Minhyuk gave to him.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

When Minhyuk opened his eyes, Bin was gone. It wasn’t typical of Bin to leave him alone when they were on land; he liked to stay close to translate if necessary. But then Minhyuk remembered the orders he had given to Bin the night before and realized Bin was likely off to recruit new crew members. 

Minhyuk yawned and rose from bed. His clothes were folded and set aside, different from how Minhyuk had left them last night. He blushed as he recalled the haste Bin had torn his shirt and pants off of him, and he wondered if Bin had also taken the time to fold them.

Sweet.

Minhyuk’s heart yearned even more for Bin.

He stood up and shuffled over to his clothes. His body ached, and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he saw the telltale signs of hickeys forming along his neck, little lovebites that Bin had placed. He sighed and ran a finger across them. The spots were still sensitive, but Minhyuk pressed down, anyway, wondering if an even larger bruise could form from his actions. He decided not to stay and find out, for there was business to be done, and as much as he wanted to grab Bin and curl up with him in bed and stay there forever and ever, he had to continue with his life and with his career.

The landlady was downstairs. She said something, her voice a nice, high hum, and then passed him over a letter. Minhyuk opened it to read.

_ Minhyuk, I’ll be down at the docks talking to men who wish to join our crew. Join me when you are able. Make sure to eat first! Bin. _

Minhyuk folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket. 

He wouldn’t eat. He didn’t think he needed to eat, and he  _ knew _ Bin would not have gotten food. Bin hardly ever ate in the morning. He claimed it made him nauseous to eat so early, or something of the sort. Minhyuk had never really thought about it and had always left Bin to do as he wanted to. But Bin liked to care for Minhyuk. He was constantly checking on Minhyuk’s hunger levels, ensuring he ate a good, balanced meal every single day. He was always so sweet and so kind. He was always acting like a lover rather than a friend.

Minhyuk swallowed thickly as he hurried outside. A few gulps of fresh air were helpful in clearing his poor, jumbled mind. He blinked a couple of times against the sun’s glare and then began to walk toward the docks.

He could feel the sea breeze tickling his skin, and he itched to be back on his boat, back where things made sense and he didn’t have to deal with Bin’s handwritten notes of concern or the random, muffled hums of anyone who tried to speak with him. Back on his boat, he would be captain once again, a role he was comfortable in. He could take charge of the crew, and Bin would be there to obey his every command. That was how it should be; that was what Minhyuk longed for.

Upon reaching the docks, he recognized Bin by his bright red shirt and matching trousers, an outfit Minhyuk was certain would be too ridiculous for Bin’s otherwise great sense of fashion, but one that Bin begged for Minhyuk to keep from his stash of goods. Minhyuk had relented, if only because he did want for Bin to have anything he desired, and now it was handy because Minhyuk could easily pick Bin out in a crowd.

Standing before Bin were about seven or eight men, all fit and seemingly obedient. At least, they must be, for the moment Minhyuk strode forward, Bin barked something out and they all bowed to him.

Bin looked at Minhyuk and smiled. “Did you eat?” he asked.

Minhyuk brushed the question away and asked one of his own. “Are these the men?”

“You need to eat.”

“I’ll eat later. Are these men my new crew?”

Bin sighed and realized he would likely not receive an answer. So he nodded instead. “Yes. They all speak Korean. They are aware that you are deaf, too, and so anything they say should either be pronounced well or spoken first to me.”

When Minhyuk nodded his head in appreciation, Bin began to introduce the men. “We got Jinwoo, Hyunggeun, Suhyun, Sanha, Sangil, Woosung and Jongwoon.” He pointed to each one as he spoke, but Minhyuk hardly paid them a second glance. Names were confusing, and the last two crews under his watch had gotten killed. Would it even be worth it to befriend these if the sirens were to take them again?

Still, he bowed his head slightly to them all in greeting before turning back to Bin. “They have the necessary skills?” he asked.

“Of course. Have I ever chosen wrong?”

He never had. Bin was good with choosing crewmen. 

“Do they know about the siren?”

Bin’s lips tightened but he didn’t lose his smile. “I mentioned it,” he replied, “and told them all that you wish for the siren to stay alive for some godforsaken reason.”

“He saved my life, Bin,” Minhyuk snapped. He looked over at the crew, who stared expectantly back at him. “Get them on board,” he told Bin. “I’ll go ahead on and chart our course for Guerdayt.” 

If Bin was saying anything in an effort to stop him, Minhyuk didn’t stop to read his lips. Burying himself in a task was sometimes the only way to take his mind off of Bin and the love he didn’t give to Minhyuk. 

Really, though, it wasn’t all Bin’s fault at all. Minhyuk was mostly at fault, and he groaned as he plopped down in his chair. He was the one that continued their sexual meetings. He could easily stop it. He  _ should _ easily stop it. He knew Bin would be unlikely to complain, since Bin could find someone else. Maybe one of the new recruits would soon take up the mantle and become Bin’s nightly lover.  _ Good riddance _ , Minhyuk thought, but the passion behind that thought was lackluster at best.

He draped himself over his desk and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to imagine Bin’s large, handsome body hovering over top of any of the crewmembers. They were new and might listen to orders, and if Bin ordered to give themselves away, would they do it?

_ No _ , Minhyuk reminded himself. Bin was not nearly cruel enough to fuck any of the crewmembers like that. He would ask first, and if the answer was unsatisfactory, then he would retreat. Bin was kind. Bin was great.

Minhyuk sighed and banged his head into the table. He wanted to forget about how much he loved Bin so he could just move on with life.

Forgetting was impossible, though, as unfortunate as it was. All Minhyuk could really do was remind himself that Bin seemed to care for him more than anyone, and that would be good enough for the time being. Minhyuk knew better than to ask more of his best friend.

They departed from port a few hours later, when Minhyuk had finished working on his maps and his charts and had taken them to Bin. Their night spent in bedsheets was pushed out of his mind as he went over their current plans, and Bin never spoke of their mutual desire. Bin would  _ never _ speak much of their mutual desire. It was a blessing, and Minhyuk took it easily.

Minhyuk turned to his new crew for help as they steadied the ship out to sea. Jinwoo stood at the wheel, gazing over the maps with an intelligence Minhyuk greatly admired. When he spoke, he made sure to look straight at Minhyuk, too, and he spoke the words with a slow pronunciation that was neither condescending nor difficult to read. Minhyuk instantly took a liking to him and told Bin as much as they left him to steer the ship.

“Have I ever chosen wrong?” Bin asked him for a second time that day, and Minhyuk rolled his eyes in exasperation, a smile lingering upon his face.

The rest of the crew proved exceptional. They were friendly with each other and with Minhyuk, yet they knew better than to overstep boundaries. If one was given a lesser task than the others, he chose not to argue. They did work diligently, and Minhyuk’s chest felt ready to burst with pride after only an hour in their company.

Things would work out fine. He was sure of it.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

Sailing was sometimes boring work, even more so when it was clear that the ship was devoid of any goods. They were en route to pick up crates and boxes of fine silk and china and whatever else would be offered to them. Minhyuk’s stomach turned as he imagined walking up to the merchants empty-handed, their previous goods stolen with no chance of ever getting anything back. They would chastise him, likely, and spread rumors of his incompetence. He had to ensure that the next batch of goods would arrive at their destination with very little issue.

As he thought, he examined the deck. Jinwoo stood at the wheel, though his eyes kept glancing at his colleagues, who were slowing down now that their main tasks were complete.

He wanted to talk to them; he wanted to at least  _ try _ to talk to them. He had half a mind to walk over and introduce himself for a second time, but then Bin grasped onto his shoulder.

“What?” Minhyuk asked, not yet ready to turn around.

But Bin shook him, and so Minhyuk looked at him with a loud sigh. “ _ What? _ ” he repeated.

Bin didn’t say a word. Bin merely pointed at the side of the ship.

The siren was back.

He was climbing up the side of the ship as he had before, nails digging harshly into the wooden deck and arms shaking with the strength it took to pull himself up. He had no legs, so surely it must be far too difficult for him to continuously strain himself in such a manner.

Minhyuk found it all ridiculous, especially when he rushed forward to help the siren up.

_ You’re a fool, _ he chastised himself. He really was a fool. Only a fool would act so calm and kind to a killer beast.

But this thing was no killer beast. Minhyuk found himself smiling as he tugged the siren onto the ship, covered now in sea water that cascaded off of it in waterfalls.  _ This thing _ had saved his life, and when it smiled up at him and showcased its terrible fangs, Minhyuk wasn’t scared at all in the slightest.

“What the hell are you doing back?” he asked it.

The siren never could understand him, so he simply scooted closer to Minhyuk, his tail dragging across the floor below it.

Bin poked his shoulder again. This time, Minhyuk looked over at him. He stood as far back as he could, as if afraid to come too close to the siren (and Minhyuk couldn’t blame him), but he gestured over at the crew, who were watching in horror. Most of them had their hands slapped over ears, as if the siren would start to sing without a second’s notice.

Oh. Right. They were aware of the siren’s existence, but surely it must be a shock to see it in person. Minhyuk felt bad for them. Guilt rumbled in his belly. He wondered if any had lost friends before due to sirens. He wondered if any knew of people who had fallen prey to the beautiful songs that sirens would sing. He hoped not, but he knew better than to hope.

If they had been out to sea before this, then they were all well aware of the dangers sirens possessed.

“He’s good,” Minhyuk called out in an effort to reassure his crew. “He saved my life and he has never once tried to harm me.”

Sanha said something, but he was too far for Minhyuk to read his lips. He glanced up at Bin for translation, and so Bin repeated, “How do we know it isn’t planning something?”

That was a good question, and it had been a question that Minhyuk asked himself multiple times.  _ How did they know? _

They didn’t know. There was no way to know. It was possible that the siren was growing close to Minhyuk in order to strike. It was possible that he was planning something nefarious from the start.  _ It was possible _ .

But then Minhyuk would look over at the siren, at his wide eyes and unruly hair and innocent smile. The siren didn’t look like a beast of the sea, as all the others had. It didn’t crave human flesh like the others. It helped Minhyuk and wanted nothing in return.

“Sirens are able to kill easily,” Minhyuk pointed out to his crew. “They sing and we fall overboard. It’s a simple way for them to eat. Why would this one siren go through so much trouble to trick a tiny crew when it could just sing and kill us?”

The man Bin had introduced as Jongwoon said something, and, once more, Bin translated: “Why won’t it sing, then?”

“I don’t know,” Minhyuk admitted. He didn’t know that, either. There was so much about the siren he didn’t know, and he looked at the creature again, curious as to the reasoning behind the siren’s very existence.

The siren smoothed his hair back onto his head and raised his eyebrows at Minhyuk. He cocked his head, too, as if mirroring Minhyuk’s own curiosity, the smile growing slightly when Minhyuk continued to stare.

Why wouldn’t the siren hurt him? Why did the siren pass up every single chance and choose to remain as close as possible? What was the reasoning behind that?

Someone behind Minhyuk said something. He heard the deep of a voice talking. The siren, at least, had good hearing, and looked at whoever it was that was speaking.

Minhyuk glanced behind him. Sanha, again, and Bin was translating. “Why is it coming up onto the ship?”

Minhyuk felt frustrated. “Just...tell them there’s a lot about the siren I’m unaware of. I don’t know why it doesn’t kill us and I don’t know why it doesn’t sing and I don’t know why it follows me around.”

He wondered, though, if the siren found him interesting because he so readily accepted his kind onto the boat. Minhyuk couldn’t think of a human alive who would open their arms to a  _ siren _ , to a monster of the sea. It was unheard of. 

Would the siren even understand such kindness, though? They weren’t exactly human, though they shared human characteristics. All Minhyuk knew of sirens was that they were mindless killers.

This one didn’t seem mindless. This one seemed just like a person.

Just like Minhyuk.

He narrowed his eyes and looked back to the siren, suddenly curious, and he asked, “Can you talk?”

The siren smacked his lips together and then tightened them. He was confused. He didn’t understand.

“Talk,” Minhyuk repeated, as if emphasizing certain words would allow the siren to suddenly speak Korean. He pointed to his own lips and repeated himself again. “Talk.”

The siren copied Minhyuk’s actions, pressing a finger against his lips. He had pretty lips. They were full and shaped well and had a lovely cupid’s bow. Minhyuk stared at his lips for longer than necessary before trying once again to communicate.

He pointed to his throat this time. “Talk?” he asked.

The siren’s hands traveled down to his throat. He copied Minhyuk’s actions but didn’t seem to understand what was being asked of him. Minhyuk could see frustration growing on his face, and he was shocked at such a normal human reaction. That was how humans were when they couldn’t speak another language or when they didn’t understand a question. It was a response Minhyuk knew Bin would give, or probably any other members of the crew.

He smiled and let his hand drop. “It’s alright,” he told the siren. “No point in getting upset over a silly question.”

The siren blinked. He kept his hand on his throat, as if ready should Minhyuk try any of the motions again.

Minhyuk glanced up at Bin, who stared down at him in worry, then over at the crew, who dared not take a step closer. He huffed. “Back to work!” was his loud order, and then they scurried off to their respective jobs, though their eyes lingered on the siren that had taken over their ship.

“Bin,” Minhyuk said, raising his eyebrows. “You, too. Back to work.”

“My job is to ensure your safety,” Bin retorted. He didn’t step closer. “I’m going to watch this thing. Once my back is turned, I know it will kill you.”

“God, stop being dramatic. He isn’t going to kill me. He likes me.”

Bin didn’t seem to be convinced of that fact. “Sirens have no emotions beyond the blind and desperate need to attack and kill others.”

“And, yet, this one stays by my side and chooses to save me from harm. Clearly there’s more to sirens than we have yet to figure out.”

Bin crouched, too, but kept his distance from Minhyuk and the siren. “So? Are you going to keep it around to study it? I’m sure there are hundreds of scientists in this world who would pay handsomely for the chance to take a non-killing siren into their hands. Would you ever sell this thing?”

Minhyuk hesitated briefly. He looked at the siren, who was watching the conversation with such odd interest. The siren was almost child-like in his behavior, acting as if all was brand new to him, and Minhyuk’s heart yearned to protect such innocence. 

“No,” he determined with confidence. “I have never quite liked slave trade.”

He had to turn to see Bin’s answer.

“It isn’t slave trade _ , _ ” Bin snapped. “Slave trade is for humans; this is nothing but experimentation on an animal.”

“Oh, please. What about this siren seems  _ animalistic? _ ” Before Bin could respond, Minhyuk reiterated, “What about  _ this siren _ , Bin? I don’t care if you believe all sirens you see are evil, but you can’t tell me that this one is different.”

“It remains of the same breed. It is still an animal, and it should still be studied as any animal could.”

Minhyuk scoffed and turned back to the siren. He didn’t want to listen to Bin. Perhaps Bin was right in the most basic sense. Sirens were a breed of sea creature. They weren’t  _ human _ . Therefore, human rights were not to be granted to them. 

But the siren sitting in front of him had eyes like Minhyuk’s and a nose like Minhyuk’s and a mouth like Minhyuk’s. He had hair on the top of his head and he had pretty eyelashes and he had a torso like any other human. His arms, while covered in scales and fins, were just like a human’s arms, and his fingers, while webbed and clawed, were five on each hand and just as long as Minhyuk’s own fingers were.

The tail was different, as were the gills and fangs, and yet he still seemed relatively  _ human _ .

“I’m not going to send him off to scientists,” Minhyuk replied to Bin. “He saved my life. He’s treating me kindly. Why would I betray him and force him to be prodded and poked and cut into and treated in terrible conditions?” 

He didn’t hear Bin give him an answer, so he looked back to his friend and grinned. “I’m playing it safe, though. The moment he tries anything, I’ll kill him. I swear it.”

Bin sighed. “It will sing soon. Mark my words, it  _ will _ sing.”

“I don’t know. If he hasn’t yet, why would he do it later?” Minhyuk furrowed his eyebrows and returned to his examination of the siren. “Why  _ won’t _ he sing?”

The siren stared at Minhyuk, as if struggling to understand what was being said, and Minhyuk cleared his throat before pointing to it again. “Talk?” he asked.

The siren blinked.

Minhyuk mimed words flowing from his mouth. His hand ran up his throat and then he said the word again, “Talk,” allowing his hands to act as the words would as they left his lips.

The siren’s nose was screwed up as he thought, and then, suddenly, he shook his head.

Minhyuk’s eyes widened. “No?” he wondered. “Bin, is that a no?”

He didn’t listen for Bin’s answer. He simply watched as the siren copied Minhyuk’s movements and shook his head again. Then, with bated breath, Minhyuk watched as the siren’s mouth moved.

_ Talk _ , he said.

There was no hum.

There was no sound.

Minhyuk glanced over at Bin. Bin looked surprised. “Did he say anything?” Minhyuk asked him. “Did he just speak?”

“I didn’t hear,” Bin responded. “It just mouthed  _ talk _ .”

Why would the siren mouth the words? Sirens could talk, couldn’t they? Sirens could sing, couldn’t they? Minhyuk looked at the siren and repeated himself. “Talk?”

The siren tried to say the word again, and this time he smiled apologetically and pointed to his throat, tapping it with vigor.

Minhyuk finally understood. It was the same motion he would make sometimes as he tried to tell stupid people that he was deaf and unable to hear.

“Oh my god,” he whispered in shock. “He’s mute.”

The siren wouldn’t sing because the siren  _ couldn’t _ sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i usually dont post stuff up that i haven't edited, but i didn't edit this one. i apologize in advance!

The siren didn’t stay on board the ship the entire time they were out at sea. Often times he only climbed up for a couple of hours, and that’s when he seemed most interested in the world around him, the world contained on a few wooden pieces.

Minhyuk took it upon himself to explain things the best he could to a creature who could neither understand him nor speak back.

After dragging the siren up onto the ship, he would then wait to see what caught the siren’s interest and he would do his best to describe whatever it was.

First, it was the helm of the ship.

Minhyuk supposed the siren must have seen Jinwoo at the helm, steering the ship and gazing out at sea. Perhaps the siren was unaware of what that job must entail, for he couldn’t take his eyes off of Jinwoo’s form, and when he pointed, Minhyuk grinned.

“That’s the helm of the ship,” he told the siren, though he knew his words were nothing but babble to his new friend. “It steers the ship.”

The siren blinked, looking over at Minhyuk. 

Minhyuk then dragged the siren over to the helm, telling Jinwoo, “Don’t panic. He’s not going to hurt you.”

Jinwoo, however, tightened his grip on the helm and asked, “Why is it over here?”

“He just wants to see what the helm is.”

Jinwoo glanced over at Bin, whose only response was to sigh and shrug his shoulders.

Bin had made his opinion quite clear. He didn’t trust the siren, so he told Minhyuk over and over again. He didn’t trust a creature from a sect of bloodthirsty killers who remained shrouded in absolute mystery. Sirens had never before tried making such contact with humans, other than to eat them, and so why was  _ this one _ so curious about the human world?

Minhyuk had no answer for him. All he could respond with was, “I trust him.”

He could still remember being underwater, so close to death, alone and afraid. The siren had come to him and had a prime opportunity to bite into him and rip him to pieces in a feeding frenzy. And, yet, the siren kissed him instead. The siren breathed life into him, though it had no reason to. 

There were plenty of chances on the ship for the siren to kill him, too. Minhyuk didn’t exactly remain in a defensive stance the entirety that the siren was on board the ship, and he was left open countless times. The siren, though, never seemed to desire anything from Minhyuk, save for explanations he couldn’t grasp.

When Jinwoo realized Bin wasn’t going to come to his rescue, he shuffled slightly away from the siren, who sat up the best he could, his tail splayed out beside him.

“He won’t hurt you,” Minhyuk assured him, though he could tell Jinwoo was still nervous. No amount of comforting would probably ever fully wipe away their preconceived notions about such creatures. Minhyuk didn’t blame Jinwoo in the slightest.

“I know,” Jinwoo lied.

Minhyuk scoffed. “Don’t fib. You’re allowed to be scared. Why don’t you go take a break, okay? Ten minutes. I can man the helm until then.”

Jinwoo glanced down at the siren, who stared up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m capable of much more, you know.”

“Yeah.” Jinwoo nodded his head politely and gave a quick, “Thanks,” before rushing off, likely to find one of the other crew members in order to spread gossip and discontent about the presence of a siren.

Minhyuk couldn’t very well stop such frustrations from his crew, but he also found the siren too enticing to ignore. He was just as curious as the siren was, even more so now that he knew the siren was unable to sing and cause harm. The siren was like a newcomer to the world Minhyuk knew and loved, and Minhyuk longed to share such a world with him.

He turned to his new finned friend and smiled. The siren smiled back. “Helm,” Minhyuk exclaimed, patting the helm. “It steers the ship.  _ Helm _ .”

_ Helm, _ mouthed the siren, pleased that he was able to at least catch onto a few words. He pushed himself up a little bit, hanging onto the helm for balance, though Minhyuk gripped it in place to ensure they didn’t stray from their course.

The siren gazed at the details of the wheel, at the intricate details that made it turn, and then he examined the ocean.  _ Helm, _ he repeated, smacking his lips together as he thought.  _ Helm. _

He didn’t know what it was for. Minhyuk smiled at his innocence. “The  _ helm _ ,” he said, tapping onto the helm, “steers us.” He gestured to the sea ahead of him. “We’re going straight. If I turn the  _ helm _ —” He turned it slightly, then gestured to the left. “We turn. If I turn it this way—” He turned it again. “We turn.” He put the wheel back in position and asked, “Do you understand that?”

The siren had been watching Minhyuk’s motions, and he furrowed his eyebrows in thought. With his hands, he mimed turning the helm, and then copied the ship’s motions. He moved his body in turn with whichever way he mimed the helm, then pointed down at the ship.

Minhyuk understood.  _ The ship is moved by the helm? _ was what the siren asked. He could just hear the siren’s voice in his head, picturing it to be light and pretty and full of beauty.

He nodded his head with enthusiasm, pleased the siren was able to pick up on his terrible explanation, and with that confirmation, the siren’s eyes lit up in pride.

_ Helm, _ it mouthed again, patting the wheel fondly.  _ Helm. _

The siren was also interested in the sails of the ship. Sometimes Minhyuk thought he would climb up onto the ship simply to watch as sails were moved or raised or lowered. He found the mechanisms fascinating, and Minhyuk forced Sanha and Hyungguen to showcase the concept of sails to the siren.

Hyungguen was reserved, a little more cautious than even Jinwoo was, but Sanha was a new sailor. Sanha had yet to experience the harshness of the sea, so he had explained to Minhyuk, and so sirens had never attacked him or anyone he knew. 

“I was a fisherman,” he said, pulling at some rope. He grinned when he noticed the siren staring at the sails in amazement. “We stuck to the shores. Sirens don’t come that close to the shore.”

“It’s likely we will meet other sirens on our journeys,” Minhyuk warned him. “Sirens who  _ can _ sing and won’t act like this.”

“It’s the first I’ve ever seen,” Hyungguen pointed out. “Of a siren who is...weirdly kind.”

Sanha beamed again and looked at Minhyuk. “It’s kind of cute.” He always spoke loud; Minhyuk could tell by his humming. Bin sometimes joked that Sanha must assume he was hard of hearing and just not deaf.

But Minhyuk agreed with Sanha here; the siren  _ was _ very cute. He reached a webbed hand out to lightly touch some of the rope, and he made a face like he understood the material. Minhyuk wondered if the siren had ever felt the material before. He must have, if he seemed so familiar with it, but then that brought to slew a whole new set of questions.

“Something’s on your mind,” Bin pointed out one night as the two of them went over inventory sheets of all they had lost to the pirates.

Minhyuk sighed. He crossed out  _ three crates of salt _ and asked, “Do you think the siren has ever killed anyone before?”

“Most likely,” Bin instantly agreed, nodding his head. “It’s a siren. Sirens kill for food.”

“What if he just killed fish? What if he’s never killed a human?”

Bin raised his eyebrows. “And do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know. It’s plausible.” He thought of the way the siren had smiled at him as it watched the sails being raised, and he added, “If he’s killed people before, why is he keeping us alive?”

“Which is what I keep asking. There’s no reason for him to keep us alive, so I feel like he’s planning something.”

Minhyuk wondered if that really was the case. He had wanted to move through his relationship with the siren believing that no harm would befall him, but now that he was beginning to question everything, he found himself growing wary.

As if noticing his new hesitation, Bin relaxed and smiled kindly toward Minhyuk. “If he tries anything, I’ll be the first to kill him.”

“Thanks,” Minhyuk snorted.

“Seriously, I’m not going to allow you to get hurt. Not...not again.” 

Bin still thought often of the pirates, it seemed, of the crushing weight of despair when they both realized there was no hope in fighting back. Minhyuk knew the reason Bin had yet to kill the siren anyway was because he was grateful towards it for saving Minhyuk’s life.

The near-death situation had certainly been eating away at Bin’s skin, and Minhyuk reached a hand out, enveloping Bin’s hand within his own.

“Stop thinking about it,” Minhyuk scolded him. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m no longer wounded or drowning. I’m fine.”

His heart lurched when Bin squeezed his hand with a gentle adoration Minhyuk had felt many times before, though he knew it went no further than  _ gentle adoration _ . It wasn’t love as one would experience romantically. Bin held his hand in the way friends would.

Minhyuk took a deep breath and stood from his seat. “I need to get some fresh air,” he murmured. “We don’t have much to finish, so do you mind finishing up here?”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Minhyuk nodded and left his quarters as fast as possible, not waiting around to see if Bin would say anything else. He had to get away from the stifling air in his cabin, from the knowledge that Bin would never love him.

Up on deck, Sangil remained at the helm. He offered Minhyuk a polite smile, but nothing more. Minhyuk strode forward and asked, “How is everything?”

Sangil said something, but he wasn’t looking at Minhyuk, and in exasperation, Minhyuk tapped his shoulder. “I can’t hear,” he reminded the man.

“Oh!” Sangil blushed; even in the dim light of the lanterns hanging around the ship, Minhyuk could see Sangil’s bright blush. “Sorry. I was saying that everything’s fine. The winds are in our favor, so we ought to make it to shore in two days.”

“That’s good. Very good.”

Sangil nodded his head, but added, “The, uh...the siren came back.”

Minhyuk perked up. “Did he?”

“Yeah. It was looking up at me over there—” Sangil pointed to where the siren would normally pull himself up. “I didn’t say anything to it, and it left.”

Minhyuk gave a small hum, though he found himself smiling with the prospect that the siren had come back a second time in a single day to visit with him. “That’s fine. You don’t need to talk to him if you aren’t comfortable.”

He left Sangil then, after patting his back for the good job he was doing, and hurried over to the edge of the ship, where he bent over to look into the dark waters.

He wondered, then, if sirens slept. Didn’t fish sleep? All animals  _ had _ to sleep, even if that sleep was different from that of a human, but how did sirens sleep? They had nesting grounds, so in Minhyuk’s many imaginations, they would sink down into their underwater homes and close their eyes. But what of a siren who was traveling, as this siren was? How did he sleep and still catch up with them?

Minhyuk stared into the waters for a few more seconds and was about to leave when he noticed something just beneath the surface of the ocean.

A hand.

A webbed hand, with claws that were buried inside of the ship’s wooden exterior.

Minhyuk’s eyes widened and he bent over a little bit more, trying his best to see what exactly the siren was doing.

It took him a few seconds but he was finally able to discern the rest of the siren’s figure, and he giggled in delight.

The siren was definitely asleep, but in order not to lose the ship come morning, he had dug his claws into the ship and was being dragged along even as he slept.

It was smart.

It was sweet.

And it was slightly unnerving.

Why  _ was _ the siren so obsessed with the ship and crew? Why did he care so much for Minhyuk? What was he doing?

Those were all very good questions, but for the moment, Minhyuk just smiled into the waters as he watched his new best friend sleep.

He had never seen a siren sleep before.

They were beautiful.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

The morning sun was blinding. Minhyuk shielded his eyes as he stepped out onto the deck, blinking furiously in an effort to wash away the comforting darkness that night had to offer him. Bin was still in bed, in  _ his _ bed, and Minhyuk had chosen to sneak away so no one else would discover the two of them together.

Someone said something loud. Minhyuk could hear a hum, and he looked around, wincing in the sunlight, until he noticed Sanha waving his arms wildly.

Sanha, who stood right beside the siren.

Minhyuk was quick to walk over, a smile coming onto his face as he looked over at the siren, who smiled back at him. “Sanha,” Minhyuk greeted, then gestured to the siren. “What’s he doing on board?”

“It wanted to come on,” Sanha replied. “Look, it brought me fish, too!”

And so the siren had. A few large fish lay beside it, one still flopping and gasping for breath. Minhyuk stared at them in surprise, then asked, “Why did he bring you fish?”

“I’m not sure. He tossed the fish on board first, then pulled himself up.” Sanha, closer to the siren than any of the other crew had gotten, reached for the fish with a greedy expression, but then the siren started at him, a clawed hand swiping just mere inches from where Sanha was.

Sanha fell backwards onto his bottom, and even Minhyuk faltered, taking a step back and pulling Sanha with him.

But the siren didn’t look threatening anymore. He shook his head at Sanha before grabbing one of the fish and gesturing toward Minhyuk.

“He wants... _ me _ to take it,” Minhyuk muttered, impressed with the level of care the siren was showcasing just for him.

Not for poor Sanha, though, who cradled an unwounded arm.

“Did he get you?” Minhyuk asked.

Sanha shook his head, though he still looked terrified. “No. I didn’t think he—” The rest of Sanha’s words were lost to Minhyuk, for the younger man then turned to make sure no one else had seen. No one had, fortunately, for it was still early and they were far enough away from the crew that the siren’s actions had gone unnoticed.

Minhyuk was thankful Bin wasn’t around, for Bin would’ve killed the siren instantly.

The siren pushed the fish into Minhyuk’s side, and Minhyuk was quick to take it. “Oh,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

The siren grabbed one of the other fish and wasted no time into sinking his teeth into the flesh, fangs piercing the scales easily and bone breaking in his mouth.

Minhyuk could only stare in amazement as the siren hungrily devoured the fish with ease. Within minutes, the entire fish was gone and the siren was reaching for the next one.

Sanha, seated beside Minhyuk, scrambled to his feet and stumbled backwards.

Great. One person had been friendly to the siren, and now the siren’s eating habits had steered him away.

_ Great _ .

“You eat fast,” Minhyuk commented, hopeful that polite conversation would calm the situation.

The siren looked up at him but made no indication that he heard or understood what Minhyuk said. He began to eat his second fish and Minhyuk felt queasy to his stomach.

His old crew had likely been eaten in a similar manner.

The fish were still alive as the siren ripped into them, and Minhyuk wondered if the crew had also been alive. He hoped they had drowned first. God, he  _ prayed _ they had been granted quick deaths. He could just imagine the siren’s teeth tearing into human flesh as easily as he was with the fish. He could imagine the siren gripping them tightly with piercing claws, holding them still as he ate to his heart’s content.

He gave a start when someone touched his shoulder, and he spun his head around to look at the newcomer.

It was Bin, glaring at the siren with unfathomable hatred.

“Bin!” Minhyuk gasped out, standing up. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” Bin watched the siren eat. Minhyuk knew he was thinking similar thoughts. “How long has this thing been up here?”

Minhyuk grit his teeth down. “I’m not sure. He was up when I came. He brought me fish.”

Bin glanced over at the fish in Minhyuk’s hand. “Does it expect you to eat it like that?” he asked. “Like a wild beast?”

“He…” Minhyuk couldn’t say anything in defense of the creature. What was there to say? How was he supposed to make excuses for sirens? Why couldn’t he just kill the siren and be done with him? Why did he care so much?

The siren finished the second fish, but he didn’t eat anymore. Instead, he scooped up the rest he had caught and held them in his hands, lifting them up a bit for Minhyuk to take.

Minhyuk’s mouth felt dry. He could feel Bin’s stare on him now. “We might as well eat these,” he muttered. “Since the siren went through the trouble of catching them.”

But Bin was quick to pull Minhyuk away. The siren blinked in surprise but watched the proceedings with interest.

“Do you not see how dangerous that thing is?” Bin asked him, once he spun Minhyuk around so they could look at each other. “It can kill you in an instant!”

“And I can kill  _ him _ instantly!” Minhyuk exclaimed. “I have a knife on me at all times. Besides that, we have crew members up here who can help me if I need it; this siren operates alone! He can’t do a  _ thing _ to me without retaliation.”

Bin’s glare was angry, smoldering, but Minhyuk chose not to falter under such a look. He had learned how to stand tall and proud, regardless of what Bin was saying, and he wouldn’t back down in this instance. He didn’t want to get rid of the siren, not when he had saved Minhyuk’s life, not when he had done nothing wrong in the slightest.

“You’re being foolish,” Bin said.

Sensing he won the fight, Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “Perhaps I am. But I’d rather take a chance on this creature. He can teach us so much about sirens. We might be able to uncover secrets about them and never be killed again. Think about it, Bin — he knows how they work and how they operate. If I can get it out of him, bit by bit, we’ll be better prepared when they inevitably swim up to our ship.”

“And whose side do you think your pet will choose?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk wasn’t sure, so he shrugged. “We’ll see,” was all he responded with, then he bent down to the siren’s level to take some of the fish it still held out in offering. “Thank you, Siren,” he told the creature.

The siren tilted its head, trying to discern the words being used, and so Minhyuk repeated himself. “Thank you.”

_ Thank you _ , the siren mouthed, and his eyes lit up.

Minhyuk couldn’t help but laugh. He gave the siren a small nod as he worked on passing the fish off to Sanha, who had crept a little closer now that he was no longer in danger of being attacked. 

Bin said something. Minhyuk could hear the hum of his voice, but he chose not to engage. It was Sanha who displayed the fact that something was wrong, with wide, nervous eyes glancing over at Minhyuk.

“Sanha?” Minhyuk asked. “What did Bin say?”

Sanha visibly gulped. “He said that…” The words came in a slurred mumble, one that Minhyuk was unable to decipher. He glared, and Sanha repeated himself more clearly. “He told me not to take the fish.”

“Right.” Minhyuk gave no indication that Bin was upsetting him. “Sanha, who is captain of this ship?”

“You are,” Sanha replied.

“Right. And as captain of the ship, I order you to take the damn fish. Understand?”

Sanha nodded his head.

“Take them to Jongwoon. I believe that he will be able to prepare these for us in some way or another.”

Sanha, with all the fish in his hands, readied to go, but Minhyuk stopped him. “And, Sanha? Next time Bin tries to give you orders, you ignore him.”

Sanha faltered but didn’t lose eye contact. “Right,” he said, then scurried off, likely scared to be caught in the midst of a fight.

Once he was gone and once Minhyuk ensured the other crew were not likely to be within earshot, he turned to Bin and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to save the crew.”

“You’re not. You’re just going to turn them against me.”

“Perhaps they should, in order to save you as well.”

Minhyuk gave a sharp breath and held his hands out helplessly. “What the hell do you want from me, Bin? I won’t let you kill a sea beast who has saved my life and never once threatened me — is that it? Is that what’s making you mad?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, then,  _ maybe _ you should trust me!” Minhyuk hoped he wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t good with controlling the volume of his voice, since he couldn’t hear himself, but he prayed he wasn’t too loud. “I don’t want to kill this siren, alright? He’s helped me. Do you know how awful it was to drown? I was scared. I was alone. I was  _ dying _ . And this thing came out of nowhere and saved my life! And now you want me to kill him?” Minhyuk shook his head, not sure what else to do to display all the frustrations that were welling up within him. “I won’t kill him, and I expect you to trust me, okay?”

Bin grit his teeth down. Minhyuk could see how his jaw tensed up. He said nothing, though, and so Minhyuk continued. “If he tries anything, I  _ will _ kill him, but until then, he is to remain unharmed, and my word is to be taken as law on this ship. Do you understand, Bin?”

He waited for confirmation, and Bin finally said, with what looked to be great reluctance, “I understand.”

“Good.” Minhyuk gestured over to the cabins and said, “Bring up the inventory list. I have to check a few things up here.”

Bin shot the siren one last glance before nodding his head and heading back down below deck. 

Once he was gone, Minhyuk sighed and knelt back down to the siren’s level. The siren had watched everything with concern, as if detecting that tensions were high based off of the noise level. Minhyuk wondered if sirens were every angry. Minhyuk wondered what they would sound like if they angered.

“Don’t ever become a captain,” he warned the siren, who obviously was unable to understand the warning. “Or, I guess, don’t ever befriend the guy who’ll become your second-mate, if you  _ do _ become captain.”

To himself, though, staring down the stairs where Bin had disappeared, he thought,  _ Don’t fall in love with the quartermaster, either _ .

It was too late for that.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

As they grew closer to shore, the siren vanished.

He had done that the first time, too. He had some knowledge, then, of the dangers that the ports possessed, of the knowledge that his claws and teeth, which helped him well in the middle of the ocean, were useless when he was close to land.

Bin stated the obvious as the two of them walked into town. “It means he has been around humans before.”

Minhyuk read his lips, then huffed. “Keep walking,” he demanded.

His eyes were elsewhere as they walked, choosing not to listen to Bin’s mindless rambling. He couldn’t help but to wonder if Bin was right and if the siren really had been involved with humans before. It was likely — then again, perhaps he was scared of the unknown. Or maybe other sirens had somehow managed to warn him of the dangers that going too close to the shore would bring about.

Regardless, he remained behind, and Minhyuk felt relief knowing that the siren wouldn’t be killed by some unruly humans. Not today, at least.

Minhyuk couldn’t worry for too long about the siren, however, for he was instantly swept up in the fury that was business. While pirates were a common danger out on the seas, and while sirens attacked at random, Minhyuk was still chastised for losing the stock he had been entrusted with. All he could really do was read their lips closely and apologize in as many ways he could think of: “I apologize, I’m so sorry, it won’t ever happen again.”

What he really wanted to say was, “I’m sorry sirens ate my entire crew and left me with no one but Bin, and I’m sorry pirates then invaded our ship and dumped me into the water for dead, and I’m sorry I’ve been dealing with an overly attached siren who is mute and doesn’t speak any known language.”

But he  _ couldn’t _ say that, for not only would he be branded as untrustworthy and combative, he would likely cause Bin distress.

Bin was a good translator, but his temper was shorter than Minhyuk’s was. If Minhyuk went off, Bin would go off more. He had to remain calm in order to reel Bin in.

And he had to reel Bin in often.

“What part of  _ all you’re here for is translation _ do you not understand?” Minhyuk asked, exasperated, as they exited a watch store. 

Bin, pouting, responded, “They were trying to tell you that you should’ve been prepared to die for those fucking goods. For watches? Really? They wanted you to die for those ugly watches?”

“They just lost a ton of stock,” Minhyuk muttered, trying to appear sympathetic, though he certainly didn’t feel it. “I’m sure they’re upset.”

“That’s no reason to tell you that you deserve to die.” Bin stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants, the frown still tugging at his lips. “At least those guys are the last ones. If I have to deal with any other shopkeepers, I might vomit.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to deal with the current ones. They’re readying our inventory to be replaced, so you must go and ready the crew to pick everything up.”

Bin made a face, then asked, “Isn’t that normally your job?”

“I have to run a quick errand,” Minhyuk told him. When Bin looked unsure, Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “I’m not near the siren, Binnie. You need to stop worrying so much.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Bin asked.

“Yeah. You might get bored. I’m just picking up books.”

“Oh. That is boring.”

“It would do you well to pick up a book sometimes.” While Bin tried to stammer out a comeback, Minhyuk grinned and smacked his shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the ship. Do well, okay?”

He knew Bin would, and so he didn’t even need a confirmation of that fact. 

He had a favorite bookshop along the port, somewhere hidden in the walls of larger shops, somewhere dusty and overridden with texts of lore and mythology. Minhyuk often studied these texts in order to prepare him for the dangers that the ocean had to offer. It was where he first discovered how to deal with sirens; it was where he first discovered he  _ couldn’t _ deal with sirens.

The bookshop owner was a grouchy, old man who minded his business and left Minhyuk to explore on his own. A maze of books greeted Minhyuk as he stepped further into the shop. Books were stacked precariously about the small building, some of them threatening to tip over, others falling apart where they sat on the shelves, dormant and forgotten. Minhyuk looked for those first, hopeful he would find something that no one else had read before.

His time was running out, though. Every moment he wasted was another moment where his men would be slaving away to grab boxes upon boxes of goods. Minhyuk didn’t want to be absent from his crew for too long.

He grabbed a handful of books that seemed to promise some information on sirens. One was in Latin, but Minhyuk could read it well enough. Another was in what looked to be French, and Minhyuk prayed someone  _ else _ could read it well enough. There were three books in Korean, however, and Minhyuk grabbed those with enthusiasm:  _ Ocean Creatures, The Book of Sirens in the Eastern Seas _ , and one with no title but a crude engraving of an ugly siren smacked on top of the hard cover. 

It was possible he would be given no help from such books, but Minhyuk held hope within him. The books were likely to speak of sirens, of their evil deeds and violent mannerisms, but perhaps there would be examples of sirens who did not kill or maim or attack.

Sirens who would be just like  _ his _ sweet siren, like the fish creature who stared up at him with such innocence in his eyes and kindness in his smile.

It was only after he purchased the books that Minhyuk realized he had thought of the siren as  _ his siren _ .

“Great,” he muttered.

He was a bit too attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bin :'(

It was easy to get lost in reading. Minhyuk couldn’t hear, and so outside noise was no issue. He could bury his nose in a book and lose all concept of time, until Bin decided to shake on his shoulder to force him back to reality.

He was learning a lot about sirens, more so in observing the one nearby rather than reading anything. The books still claimed that sirens were evil, unable and unwilling to change into a better version of themselves. Yet, Minhyuk’s siren was nothing but curious and sweet. He had become a little more confident in trying to communicate with the rest of the crew, and he would often smile or wave in an effort to greet them.

The crew was having a bit more difficulty in returning the favor. Sanha gave in rather quickly, though he still kept his distance. Only Minhyuk remained close to the siren, and he despaired that the rest of the crew couldn’t see just how magnificent of a creature his siren was.

Bin, one night, frowned at him as Minhyuk flipped through his book. “You keep calling it _your_ siren,” he commented.

Minhyuk stared at him and blinked. It hadn’t been a conscious switch; he only noticed he did such a thing once. But it made sense, for he really _had_ been a little possessive of the siren friend. 

“Well, he doesn’t have a name. It’s difficult to call him anything when he has no name.”

Bin grabbed a book from the pile of siren books on Minhyuk’s desk. He searched for the author, then tapped the name with his finger. “Kim Myungjun. Call him that.”

“It seems like a rash decision to make. Besides, would the author of a book dedicated to the evils of sirens really enjoy me fondly calling a siren by his name?”

“It’s better than calling him _your_ siren,” Bin pointed out.

Minhyuk supposed it was, and he realized that by referring to the siren with an actual name, he gave the creature a bit more agency. He tested it on his tongue a few times, asking Bin, “Am I pronouncing it correctly?”

“You sound fine to me.”

“I don’t want to mess up his name.”

Bin smiled. “It won’t care. Trust me.”

But even if Bin was correct and the siren wouldn’t recognize the name, Minhyuk still didn’t want to screw it up. He wanted to make the siren more human-like, and to do that, he needed as good of a name as anyone else got.

He told the siren his name the next morning, crouched beside him on the deck of the ship. He pointed and carefully said, “Myungjun. Kim Myungjun.”

The siren blinked at him.

Minhyuk pointed to himself. “Minhyuk. Park Minhyuk.”

That didn’t seem to do anything. The siren watched him with interest, and so Minhyuk continued on with his efforts.

“You are Kim Myungjun. _Myungjun_.” Minhyuk kept pointing at the siren’s chest, until the siren copied Minhyuk’s movements. Minhyuk nodded in encouragement and said, “Myungjun!”

The siren mouthed the name. _Myungjun_ , he repeated, though he still looked confused.

“Right.” Minhyuk nodded again, then pointed to himself. “Minhyuk.”

The siren was struggling to comprehend the weird names. Still, he pointed at Minhyuk and repeated that name, too. _Minhyuk_.

Minhyuk pointed back to the siren and raised his eyebrows, awaiting an answer. He had done this before and the siren had eventually caught on, and this time was no exception. The siren pointed at himself and said, _Myungjun?_

Minhyuk felt joyous. “Yes! Good job! You’re Myungjun!” Somehow, this was going way better than expected. 

As if thriving on such praise, the siren pointed his finger at Minhyuk. _Minhyuk_ , he mouthed.

Something warm and light and sweet filled Minhyuk’s heart. The feeling tugged at his heart, pulling as hard as it could, and he found himself smiling brightly at the siren before him.

At _Myungjun_ , he reminded himself, pleased the siren finally had a name of his own.

He nodded his head. “Minhyuk,” he agreed, and the siren smiled right back at him before setting his sights on Jinwoo.

Myungjun pointed over at Jinwoo, then glanced curiously toward Minhyuk.

He wanted to learn other names. He had grasped the concept of personal names and was wondering what the other names were. Minhyuk’s heart thumped in his chest, and he was certain that others could hear even if he could not.

“Jinwoo,” Minhyuk told Myungjun. “That’s _Jinwoo_.”

 _Jinwoo_ , said Myungjun, nodding with determination. It was cute. It was adorable. Minhyuk found himself unable to take his eyes away from Myungjun, and he felt the beating of his heart even more than before.

He was growing far too fond of a siren.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

Myungjun was rather impressed with the book Minhyuk was letting him flip through. He marveled at it, touched it gently, and then ran a finger along the text engraving that displayed the title of the book.

Minhyuk read it out for him. “ _The Book of Sirens_ ,” he said. Then he took Myungjun’s hand and traced each of the characters, repeating the title even slower. Myungjun seemed to grasp the subject, at least a little bit, but he grew too excited to hold still and finish Minhyuk’s lesson. He opened the book to the first page where he was greeted with a crude drawing of a bloodthirsty siren devouring a human.

He pointed at the siren, and then at himself, gesturing frantically down to his tail. He recognized the similarities, and so Minhyuk watched with bated breath as Myungjun turned back to the book and examined the human. His eyes were focused mostly on the legs, and he had to look down at Minhyuk’s legs before he smiled brightly and poked the book.

“That’s right,” Minhyuk said, nodding his head. “I’ve got legs.”

Myungjun grinned, but then shook his head and covered up the gruesome visual drawn out on the page. When he noticed Minhyuk was still confused, he slapped a hand over his mouth and tapped the image again.

“You…” Minhyuk blinked. “Oh.”

 _I won’t eat you,_ Myungjun was saying. Despite not sharing the same language and despite Myungjun’s muteness and Minhyuk’s deafness, they still somehow could understand one another. It made sense, and Minhyuk laughed before leaning up on the wooden mast. “That’s right,” he agreed. “You won’t eat me.”

It was odd how utterly safe he felt around Myungjun. Despite the siren’s clawed hands and sharp fangs, despite the unnatural ability Myungjun possessed to rip apart flesh and bones with little issue, Minhyuk felt safe around him. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Myungjun would never cause him harm.

Myungjun flipped to the next page, full of the Korean characters, and he huffed in frustration. He was unable to understand anything written there, and so Minhyuk laughed as he continued to flip through the pages. “Lots of writing,” he commented. “It’s alright if you can’t understand right now. Maybe one day you will.”

Myungjun liked the pictures, though, and he would quickly stop whenever he spotted sight of a drawing. Most of the drawings depicted sirens in poor taste; ugly, vile creatures with a penance for bloodthirst. Minhyuk supposed that was how the majority of them acted, but he didn’t like Myungjun looking at such sights.

To his credit, however, Myungjun hardly seemed upset by the depictions. He would continue to shake his head with each one, as if trying his best to convince Minhyuk that he wasn’t as violent as his brethren, but he looked more inquisitive than angry.

After a bit, Minhyuk left him to look through the Korean book while he picked up the one in French. Translating would be difficult, as Minhyuk’s French was even worse than his English, but he propped the book up on his knees and began to read it anyway, inferring much of the passages based on a few words he knew here and there.

Reading in foreign languages always came easily to Minhyuk, for it reminded him of reading lips. He could mostly detect a handful of words, and with that, he strung together a sentence to complete whatever people were saying. Foreign languages were the same; once he was aware of a few words, he could usually string together the concept of passages and phrases.

Beside him, Myungjun repositioned himself, sitting in a similar manner to Minhyuk, with his back against the mast and his fin propped up like legs. His shoulder was squashed against Minhyuk’s. Minhyuk could feel some of the scales that dotted his skin, and he found the touch to be a curious thing.

Suhyun, at one point, walked over and, keeping his distance, asked, “Captain, it looks like there might be a storm on the horizon.” Suhyun was short and skinny with small eyes and a flat nose. His hair was choppy, likely self-cut, and his clothes hung too big on his tiny frame. Still, he was a capable sailor and thought ahead, so Minhyuk grew a liking to him.

In response to Suhyun’s question, Minhyuk nodded his head. He had also seen the signs of unrest brewing in the heavens. “From what I saw, it seemed smaller. Is that still the case?”

“Yes. But Jinwoo has recommended that we make a wide berth around the storm. It would require us heading out further to sea, but in case the storm takes a turn for the worse, this would be a safer option.”

It was very likely that the storm would worsen. Minhyuk could already feel the scorching heat of the sun growing warmer by the second, and warm waters meant worse storms. He had already lost a crew due to sirens, and he didn’t want to lose his next crew due to the weather. So he nodded his head to Suhyun and said, “Tell Jinwoo to make a wide berth, then.”

“Yes, Captain,” Suhyun said, bowing his head before rushing off to talk to Jinwoo. Minhyuk watched him go, thinking carefully about how to best bypass any bad weather. It would definitely lengthen their time out at sea and possibly cause them to become late with their shipments, but Minhyuk would much rather take a reduced pay and a scolding than he would see his new crew devoured by the sea.

He sighed and leaned back against the mast again. Myungjun had watched the exchange with an inquisitive look.

“We’re keeping an eye on the sky,” Minhyuk said, pointing upwards at the blue expanse above them.

Myungjun glanced up, too, and then back at Minhyuk.

Perhaps talking about their meteorological advancements was a little much at this point. Did sirens have any concept of weather? Surely they must, for they lived in the sea and could likely tell if waves were bad. But Minhyuk wasn’t quite sure how to explain it, and so he decided to ignore the subject for the time being.

Myungjun pointed down at his book, and Minhyuk looked.

There was an image on the page of a siren, and beside that was an image of a human. Rather than the siren as the aggressor this time, the human and siren looked to be the same person. At least, they shared the same face, and Minhyuk read over the caption.

_A siren can turn human only in rare occasions and by a concoction of certain, hard-to-gather ingredients._

A siren could turn _human?_

Myungjun jabbed at the page again, desperate, and then circled his fingers around the legs. When Minhyuk looked up at him in confusion, Myungjun gestured to his fin and then to Minhyuk’s legs.

He wanted legs.

Myungjun was asking to become human.

“Let me see,” Minhyuk whispered, taking the book from Myungjun’s arms. He wanted to read more about the ingredients, for if he was able to turn Myungjun human, then he felt people might accept him a little easier.

The ingredients list seemed rather silly, but it appeared to have been written by a Korean man who had been visited by a deity, Sobyeol, and given instructions on how to properly turn a siren into a human. 

Minhyuk ran a finger down the list of ingredients, growing confused with the oddities.

_Hair from the shoulder of a kumiho._

_Feather from a harpy._

_Scale from a jiaolong._

_Head from a nine-headed snake._

_Blood from a dryad._

It was a ridiculous list, one that was likely made up, for Minhyuk was certain that several of the creatures listed didn’t even exist.

But when he tried to hand the book back to Myungjun, Myungjun reached out to touch Minhyuk’s leg, clawed fingers wrapping around the fabric of Minhyuk’s pants. Myungjun looked at him, eyes wide, and then grabbed Minhyuk’s hand.

“Wha-What are you doing?” Minhyuk asked, a little concerned, but he relaxed when Myungjun plastered his hand against the fin that covered Minhyuk’s lower half.

 _He wants me to feel_ , Minhyuk thought, and he understood.

He really wanted to become human.

“I’ll look into it,” Minhyuk murmured, patting Myungjun’s fin with a polite smile. “Honestly, I will.” He wasn’t sure how, for the creatures mentioned in the book would be hidden on the outskirts of Earth. One was lucky to catch sight of those creatures; Minhyuk and his crew were lucky to have never seen most of them. The dragon would kill them in an instant, if the snake didn’t get to them first. Harpies were said to be evil, if they did exist, and a dryad was too cunning to ever get close to. A kumiho would be a bit more accessible, but they were notorious shape-shifters. It was likely that Minhyuk wouldn’t even know one if he was close to it.

Still, Myungjun stared at him with eyes filled with hope, and Minhyuk decided he could at least be on the lookout for the creatures, or for other ways to change him.

If Myungjun was turned human, would he still have gills? The picture in the book didn’t make that clear. Would he have claws? Would his hair still be a beautiful color of orange? Would his _eyes_ still be orange? Would his fangs be that sharp? Would he be able to walk well, or would he need to be taught? Would he understand human languages, or was he doomed to forever communicate with other sirens? There was much to think about, and Minhyuk refused to make any rash decisions.

He couldn’t, anyway, because he knew Bin would put a stop to it.

“You should go back in the water,” Minhyuk said, nudging Myungjun lightly. “I ought to find Bin and discuss our next steps with him.”

Myungjun blinked, and it took a bit of gesturing for him to understand a little bit; the _going back in the water_ portion, at least. The siren frowned, displeased with Minhyuk’s orders, but pushed himself over to the edge of the boat, anyway. Before he pulled himself over the railing, he pointed again at Minhyuk’s legs.

Minhyuk laughed and nodded his head. “Yes,” he confirmed, “I understand.”

With a small grin in return, Myungjun dumped himself back into the ocean, and Minhyuk gave a sigh of relief.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to find the ingredients, but he would try his best to make Myungjun’s dreams come true, anyway.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

Of course, he still had to bypass his loyal quartermaster, who seemed determined to remind him of all the things that could go wrong with his quest.

“Are you really going to hunt down a nine-headed snake for the siren?” Bin asked, looking up from the book.

“I don’t know.” Minhyuk sighed, drooping over his desk with displeasure. “I don’t think so. It’s a lot — you saw the list. Most of those creatures don’t even exist.”

“Kumiho’s do, as well as the dragons, but I don’t believe in dryads. Or anything, really, belonging to the Anglo culture. They’re known to make up lies.”

“Don’t say that. Half of my customers are of Anglo descent.”

Bin shrugged his shoulders, not seeming to care very much if he insulted an entire race of people. “All I’m saying is that this is a stupid task, and you don’t know what could happen if you somehow manage to succeed and make this potion. You feed it to your siren, then what? It grows legs? It can run and jump and kill you even better?”

Minhyuk sighed. Bin was really keen on the idea that Myungjun was some sort of murdering beast, though all evidence pointed to the contrary. At this point, Myungjun had given up on trying to make Bin see any sense, and he just accepted the complaints as they came. Perhaps soon Bin would realize the error of his thoughts and seek to apologize, but Minhyuk could handle a bit of insubordination for now.

“Regardless, I already said I don’t think I’m doing this. It requires far more time and effort than I am willing to give it. Perhaps if I find these things along our travels, on a highly populated trade route, then, sure, I’ll see what I can do. But I won’t find...a, a kumiho out at sea, so there’s not much of a point in trying to figure this out, is there?”

Bin stared at Minhyuk for a few extra seconds before closing the book. “Why do you care so much for it?” he asked.

“Myungjun saved my life. How could I not care for him?”

“Yes, but...you considered, even for a bit, helping it gain legs in such an unorthodox way. Not only that, but you spend as much time as possible with it. You really...you seem to care for it far more than anyone ought to care for a siren.”

“He acts just like a human.” Minhyuk grabbed the book away from Bin and put it aside. “Why wouldn’t I treat him like one?”

Bin had to maneuver a bit for Minhyuk to read his lips. “Because it isn’t a human. It’s not human, Minhyuk. It is not a human.”

“You’ve said that. You’re repeating yourself.”

“Only because you won’t listen unless I make it some sort of mantra.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes, frustrated with Bin’s attempts now. He was willing to let them slide, but it was all beginning to grate on his nerves.

He would have to change the subject if he wanted Bin to shut up. Bin liked to talk, and Bin liked to express his opinions. Sometimes, though, all he needed was a new topic and he would forget everything else he had been saying.

“Jinwoo is going to be straying from our initial route,” he said, leaning back in his seat. He stared at Bin, watching for any movements of his mouth. “Which could be dangerous, as we’ve both learned before.”

Bin mumbled something. It was indiscernible. His lips were hardly moving.

“Clearly,” Minhyuk ordered.

Bin raised his eyebrows and said, “Why don’t you ask your new friend to stop any siren attacks?”

“I have,” Minhyuk retorted. “But he doesn’t speak our language and so he doesn’t understand, which isn’t very fortunate for us. It would do well for us to have a siren on our side, perhaps one who would be able to stop all other sirens from attacking our ship.”

“You have actually tried to communicate with it regarding other sirens?”

“Yes.” Minhyuk smiled at Bin’s expression. “I know you don’t trust him, but I think he could be useful. He’s nice; he wants us to live.”

“It wants you to live,” Bin corrected.

Minhyuk snorted. “Yes, well, I won’t live unless my crew lives. A captain goes down with his ship.” It was a lie. He would live even if his crew died. He had done it before. He wouldn’t live, though, if Bin died. He couldn’t fathom going on without Bin, and he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to ever go on without Bin.

He loved Bin. He adored Bin. He _needed_ Bin.

“Anyway,” Minhyuk continued, trying his best to shake off his desires. “I don’t know how to properly convey that we need Myungjun’s help. I gesture and point and make expressions, but so far he hasn’t understood _please tell your siren friends to leave us alone_.”

“Have you drawn pictures?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk paused. Pictures? He hadn’t considered pictures. “Oh, gods, I’m a fool,” he muttered with a bout of laughter. “Bin, Myungjun _loves_ pictures.” Myungjun had marveled over all of the drawings in the book Minhyuk had given him. He understood those, too, and had communicated over the pictures. Why hadn’t he thought of drawing his own pictures in an effort to speak with Myungjun about important matters?

He swept aside the map on his desk and grabbed some paper from the drawer on his desk. “What should I draw?” he mused.

Bin leaned forward and checked the inkwell, ensuring it was fool, before asking, “Grab another pen.”

“What for?”

“I want to draw, too. I can draw the sirens. I’m not too bad at drawing ugly things.”

“Myungjun isn’t ugly,” Minhyuk retorted, feeling a tad defensive over his new friend’s appearance. 

Bin smiled at him. “I never said Myungjun was ugly.”

“You said sirens were, and Myungjun is a siren.”

“Though, by your account, he’s practically human already.” Bin’s expression was smug, and Minhyuk wished he could smack it off Bin’s face, but by the time he thought of doing it, Bin had already bent over to draw.

Determined to punish Bin later for his insult, Minhyuk clicked a tongue against the roof of his mouth and joined his friend in the artwork. Drawing a question of _can you tell the other sirens not to kill us?_ wasn’t nearly as difficult as Minhyuk had imagined it would be. Bin had a nice group of ugly, nasty sirens, who attacked the ship. Minhyuk was able to draw Myungjun in a semi-recognizable way, though he knew he would have to rely on visual cues in order to make sure Myungjun knew who it was.

In the end, when they both picked their pens off the parchment paper, Minhyuk was pleased with the work. There were a few smudges here and there, obvious mistakes with the pen blotting, but otherwise, it wasn’t too bad of a drawing. At the very least, it ought to convey Minhyuk’s desires better than talking would.

“I’ll take this to him tomorrow,” Minhyuk determined. “He sleeps at night.”

“Sirens sleep?”

“Apparently. Other fish sleep, too, but Myungjun follows our sleeping pattern. He’s asleep during the night and awake during the day. I’m not sure what other fish do.”

Bin looked thoughtful. His eyes remained on the drawing, and he asked, “Where does it sleep?”

“He attaches his claws onto our boat, so he gets dragged along with us. I guess as long as we don’t make port in the middle of the night, it shouldn’t harm him.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Despite his words, Bin smiled. “You’re worried that it might bump its head if we’re close to shore? You’re not worried about the damages to the ship? Or the fact that we have a siren trailing after us at all times of the day and night?”

Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders. He saw no reason to worry. Myungjun had yet to hurt any of them, and he seemed to have no desire to hurt any of them. In fact, Minhyuk was honored that Myungjun was coming along with them, for he was sweet and gentle and curious. Minhyuk wanted Myungjun to learn new things and to become familiar with the world above the waters.

“I like him,” Minhyuk said. “I think he’s valuable to us at the moment.”

“Are we valuable to it?” Bin asked. “Why is it sticking around?”

It was a good question. Minhyuk didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But, for the time being, let’s show him this picture and hope he understands well enough.”

Minhyuk could tell that Bin wasn’t entirely satisfied with that response, but his quartermaster gave no more arguments. They packed up the pens and folded the drawing and both retired to their beds; Bin went off to join the rest of the sleeping crew, and Minhyuk collapsed on top of his sheets and stared up at the ceiling above him. 

When he slept, he dreamed of Myungjun running at him and kissing his cheeks and laughing, and somehow Myungjun’s laugh was the only thing Minhyuk could hear, and somehow Myungjun’s laugh sounded similar to a warm, spring day with flowers and buzzing bees.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

He woke with a start, to someone shaking him relentlessly, and Minhyuk shot up from bed to face the sudden intruder. It was still dark in his cabin and it took him a few seconds to notice the flashes of light coming from his window.

A storm.

He grabbed the arms of the person in front of him; Bin, he realized, able to catch glimpses of his face in the dark room.

“What’s going on?” Minhyuk slurred out, scrambling from bed. “What’s happening?”

He couldn’t read Bin’s lips, for it was too difficult to see, and he was pulling on his britches, anyway, eyes away from Bin. His mind raced as the ship rocked back and forth. They had taken a wider turn in an effort to escape the storm. Had they miscalculated? Had they run into another storm? Had the storm they _were_ running from managed to triple in size and consume them anyway? 

Once his clothes were on, Bin took his hand and pulled him up to the deck, where water was sloshing onto the floor, where waves were crashing into their small ship with little regard for the lives on board.

“Fuck,” Minhyuk cursed, though he knew no one would actually be able to hear him over what looked to be a loud storm. 

Jinwoo was at the helm, a rope tied around his waist and to the mechanism, which Minhyuk was instantly grateful for. He knew, from experience, that forgoing the rope would result in nasty spills overboard.

He hoped the others awake had followed in Jinwoo’s stead, and he grabbed Bin and said, “Make sure the crew on deck have tied themselves to the masts!” He hoped he was loud. He hoped he was yelling. Volume control was difficult, and so he anxiously watched Bin nod and rush off to do as requested of him.

Left alone, Minhyuk knew now he had to get to Jinwoo, to be his support during the storm and to figure out ways to get out of the situation without killing anyone. He was careful as he walked, trying to stay upright even as the ship swayed dangerously from side to side.

A wave hit, and Minhyuk’s feet were knocked out from under him. He was quick with his reflexes, however, and he made sure to stand back up and get his bearings before the storm could pull him underwater. 

When he was finally by Jinwoo’s side, he gripped onto the helm and asked, yelling again (he hoped), “Head west! Make sure the ship is headed west! Ride out the winds so we don’t strain the sails!” 

He was certain that was exactly what Jinwoo was doing, though he couldn’t focus on the compass attached to the helm at the moment. He had to look behind him, to strain his eyes in an attempt to catch sight of the rest of his crew through the rain. He thought he saw someone with a rope connecting them to the mast, but he couldn’t make out who it was.

Water pelted him from every which direction, but Minhyuk clapped Jinwoo’s back, trusting him to save all of their lives (and briefly saw the fearful expression on his face, which he chose to ignore — the fear might work in their favor), and then made his way to the figure tied to the rope. He needed to see who it was and make sure they, too, were alright.

Once more, he almost fell overboard; once more, he caught himself and remained upright.

Suhyun, tied to the rope, said something to him, his eyes wide and alarmed, but Minhyuk was unable to figure out the words, He could only nod, yell, “Nod if you’re alright,” and wait for Suhyun’s eventual nodding. Still, the sailor tried telling something to Minhyuk, complete with hand gestures, but they were both cut off by another wave hitting them.

Suhyun grabbed onto Minhyuk to keep the waters from dragging him down, and then Minhyuk tied himself up to some rope, too, figuring he might as well ride out the storm with his two brave crew members.

Jinwoo managed to get them to calmer waters, though it took a couple of hours. Once the ship began to still and the rain began to lessen, Minhyuk gave a great sigh of relief and untied himself from the mast. Suhyun did the same, his nimble fingers shaking.

“Are you okay?” Minhyuk asked him, wondering what it was Suhyun had been trying to tell him earlier.

Suhyun looked at him and said something. His hum was loud. Minhyuk presumed he was yelling. However, he talked so fast that Minhyuk couldn’t decipher the words, so he gestured to his ears. “Slow down,” he ordered. “Pronounce your words. I can’t hear. I need to read your lips.”

Of course, once Minhyuk ordered that, he wished he hadn’t, for the sentence he had to figure out wasn’t a good one.

“Bin fell overboard hours ago!”

Minhyuk stared at Suhyun, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat. “Bin?” he repeated, hopeful he heard him wrong.

Suhyun nodded.

Minhyuk tossed the rope aside and spun around the survey the damage of the ship and the damage of his crew.

There was no Bin.

“Bin!” he yelled, rushing to the edge of the ship and peering into the gray waters. Rain drizzled down, marring his visibility, and Minhyuk found himself struggling to hold back tears as he cried out for Bin.

He received no response.

Bin was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> progress on this one will be slow until 4'33" is finished. ALSO great news - i have visual of what siren mj looks like! the wonderful [@artaslie](https://twitter.com/artaslie) on twitter drew this gorgeous picture of siren mj that honestly captures the vision i had in my head!!! check it out [HERE](https://twitter.com/artaslie/status/1222304265324109824?s=20) and please follow her twitter page! she's super talented and amazing and i love her.
> 
> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we meet a new character :)

Minhyuk searched the entire ship for Bin.

He searched everywhere. He went up and down, over and over. He looked into barrels of wine and behind crates of silk and yelled out his name until his voice became hoarse and he found it painful to speak any longer.

He could tell the rest of the crew pitied him. Even as a few took off their hats out of respect, Minhyuk snapped at them, “Don’t you fucking dare act like he’s dead; he’s  _ not _ . Bin isn’t dead.”

Someone said something. He could hear the hum of their voice, but he didn’t look up from his searching in order to understand what they said. If they showcased any sort of remorse for a supposed lost soul, then Minhyuk wouldn’t give them attention. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Bin wasn’t dead. He just knew it, and so he didn’t stop tracing Bin’s steps and taking accounts from the two witnesses who had seen the accident (Suhyun and Jinwoo, both of whom shared similar tales). 

Night was falling, and Bin had yet to show up.

Minhyuk forced himself to sit at the edge of the boat, under Jinwoo’s watchful gaze. He knew he could restart the investigation the next day. With daylight, he would have the opportunity to perhaps turn back, to examine the waters with more scrutiny, to find anything that would prove Bin was alive and well.

But he wasn’t even sure where they were.

The storm had thrown them completely off course. The maps Minhyuk had gone over day after day were rendered useless, and Jinwoo was left relying on their compasses to find land. He could tell Jinwoo was concerned for their well-being. He could tell the crew was concerned for their safety. Minhyuk was unsure how to comfort them, however, for he had never gotten the chance to face anything without Bin by his side.

He remembered saving Bin from the sirens. How long ago had that been? Mere weeks? He had held Bin down and kept him close until the sirens’ song could no longer be heard. He had Bin in his arms then, warm and strong and  _ there _ . Now, though, he was lost, and Minhyuk’s stomach lurched as he imagined Bin at the bottom of the sea.

He wiped at his eyes. It wouldn’t do to cry, not when the crew relied on him. Still, he wanted to release some emotion. He wanted to make sure he didn’t force the turmoil to keep inside his weakened soul.

Something touched him, something from the ocean, and he spun around quickly, heart pounding with hope. However, it wasn’t Bin there who had climbed up the edge of the ship and made a miraculous recovery. It was Myungjun.

“Oh.” Minhyuk’s voice still hurt. He settled down as Myungjun floundered a bit at the railings of the ship before finally hoisting himself over. When he landed by Minhyuk’s feet, he lifted his head and offered a smile.

Minhyuk didn’t feel like smiling back.

As if noticing his foul mood, Myungjun shifted closer and rested his head on Minhyuk’s shoulder. Minhyuk could feel the siren’s breath in his ear, and though he could hear nothing, it comforted him somewhat. He sighed and stared up at the stars shining down from above and whispered, “I need Bin.”

Myungjun tapped his shoulder, and then pointed down into the sea.

Minhyuk had learned not to brush off anything Myungjun was trying to tell him. Though they differed in communication methods, Myungjun was still very intelligent and tried his best to understand and to speak in whatever body language he could muster up.

His pointing was an explanation to something, and so Minhyuk remained alert.

“The ocean?” he asked.

Myungjun pointed again, then looked around the ship. His eyes were screwed up in concentration as if figuring out exactly what to say, but then he looked back at Minhyuk. 

_ Bin _ , he mouthed.

Minhyuk definitely understood that, and he held his breath. “Right.” He nodded his head, then repeated Myungjun’s gestures at the ocean. “Bin. Where’s Bin?”

Myungjun pointed back to the ocean, then mimed a person drowning. Minhyuk couldn’t even force himself to breathe at that point. He thought he might pass out. Suddenly, though, Myungjun leaned back into Minhyuk’s warmth and kissed him softly on the lips.

It was like the kiss Myungjun had given him weeks ago. It was wet but it was sweet. It was the innocent kiss of someone who knew nothing of kisses, and only kissed to deliver life.

Minhyuk breathed again, and Myungjun grinned before nodding and pointing off to the northwest, in a different direction from where they were headed.

Minhyuk understood, and he scrambled to his feet and rushed over to the helm where Jinwoo stood.

“Northwest,” he snapped. “Turn the ship to the northwest.”

Jinwoo looked at him. Jinwoo seemed to be one of the few crew members to speak directly to Minhyuk, rather through Bin, and he did so with great ease, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Now as he stared, an eyebrow cocked up in confusion, he asked, “Why?”

“There’s land that way,” Minhyuk told him. “And Bin is that way.”

“Bin?” Jinwoo looked doubly confused now. “How the hell did he wind up on land  _ that _ way?”

Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders. “Myungjun took him! I don’t know, Myungjun can’t talk to me, but he made sure I knew that he saved Bin, and Bin is to the northwest.”

“It seems unlikely.”

“I don’t care how it  _ seems _ ,” Minhyuk replied, “but this is the only clue I have right now. I know Bin isn’t dead, and if Myungjun saved him, then he’s to the northwest. So we  _ will _ turn and head that way, understood?”

Fortunately, Jinwoo didn’t argue any longer. He smiled, instead, and nodded his head. “Understood. Though, this will put us off course.”

“We’re already off. What’s a bit more?” Without waiting for a response, Minhyuk rushed back to Myungjun, eager to watch the story of Myungjun’s daring rescue unfold.

Myungjun seemed to enjoy theatrics. He noticed how intently Minhyuk was watching, so he mimed all various sorts of actions. Minhyuk wasn’t sure which actions were attributed to Bin and which actions were attributed to Myungjun, but he paid close attention regardless, curious on what exactly happened in the ocean during the storm.

All the while, Myungjun ensured they were on the correct path. Anytime Jinwoo steered from the course Myungjun had established, the siren shook his head and would point, directing the boat elsewhere. Minhyuk made his crew follow all of Myungjun’s whims, though Sanha at one point stopped him and asked, “What if it’s a trap?”

“A trap?” Minhyuk repeated, glancing over at Myungjun, who was oblivious to the words being spoken.

Sanha nodded his head. “Some of the crew think that the siren is leading us into a trap.” As if hoping to deter any retaliation from his talk, Sanha was quick to gesture behind him. “Some of them. Not necessarily me.”

Minhyuk furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would Myungjun lead us into a trap? He’s never given me reason not to trust him, and if he has Bin kept somewhere safe then I’d like to save my friend.”

“Okay,” Sanha said, quick to smile and act as if he had no part in any sort of concern. “I just asked because they had been asking. It wasn’t me, not really.”

“If they want to ask me, they can. I encourage discussion on my ship. However, Myungjun has saved me before. I’m positive he has also saved Bin, and he’s simply leading us to where he’s kept Bin.” Minhyuk knelt back to Myungjun and waved Sanha off. “Go back to your post now. We ought to be there soon.”

He didn’t know where  _ there _ was. It was possible that Myungjun, despite his sweet face and innocent persona, had been leading them all into a trap the entire time. It was  _ possible _ that Myungjun was not to be trusted. But Myungjun was the only chance they had to save Bin’s life. Minhyuk refused to leave without doing everything in his power to find his best friend.

They sailed in silence for a bit longer. Myungjun kept dozing off, only waking when Minhyuk shook him to ensure they were still on the correct path. It wasn’t until a few hours later, when the sun had risen, that Jinwoo, still at the helm, shouted, “Land!”

Minhyuk scrambled up and joined Jinwoo, along with several other crew members, at the helm to look out at the land he had spotted.

It seemed like a rather large piece of land, like some sort of giant island. Calculating the distance and how fast the siren could swim, Minhyuk was certain that Myungjun would have been able to swim that fast and that far in such a short amount of time. He was a powerful swimmer, and Minhyuk could personally attest to that.

He glanced back to Myungjun, who was trying to drag himself to the front of the ship in order to check out the island. Minhyuk was quick to help him, pulling him the rest of the way and hoisting him up so he could hold onto the edge of the ship.

Myungjun nodded in excitement when he caught sight of the island and then smiled up at Minhyuk, his sharp teeth a contrast to the mirth and joy in his eyes.

Minhyuk smiled back at him and ruffled his hair, which Myungjun seemed to like most of all.

In his happiness to have found the safe spot Myungjun had deposited Bin, he didn’t notice Jinwoo fumbling around with the map until he was nudged by Suhyun. Minhyuk looked over in time to see Jinwoo asking some sort of question, his hum low-pitched but full of confusion.

“Repeat,” Minhyuk ordered.

Jinwoo looked at Minhyuk, fear shrouding his gaze, and asked, “Why is this island not listed on the map?”

Instantly, Jinwoo was crowded by interested crewmates. Minhyuk had to shoulder his way to Jinwoo’s side where he examined the map he had been using and marking. Jinwoo was correct; the portion of the map where the island ought to be was empty, filled with water instead of land.

“Are the coordinates accurate?” Minhyuk asked, glancing toward Jinwoo’s compass and sextant. “Maybe you miscalculated.”

Jinwoo shot Minhyuk an exasperated look. “I wouldn’t have miscalculated. We didn’t travel that far from our initial position.”

“Were we thrown further off course than initially presumed?”

Jinwoo bit down on his lower lip and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s possible,” he replied.

Minhyuk only felt slight fear at that. While it might be difficult to get their bearings after picking up Bin, he trusted his sailors, and himself, to figure it all out. Besides, they still had nautical tools and they would be able to make it to another port, even if it wouldn’t be their next stop. Minhyuk, noticing the worried expressions of the crew around him, comforted, “We have just gotten thrown off course a bit more than we thought, but it’s fine. This island is a large one and we can rest there before heading back to our original position. Jinwoo and I are both skilled navigators, and we won’t get lost. Isn’t that correct, Jinwoo?”

He didn’t look over to make sure Jinwoo was agreeing with him. He knew Jinwoo wouldn’t dare to contradict him in such a moment, and as long as the crew wasn’t going to act out of fright or worry, then Minhyuk knew things would be fine.

He would get Bin, which was the most important thing at this point. That was all he cared about.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

Woosung and Sangil lowered the anchor when they were close to the island. Minhyuk had been using a spyglass, trying his best to find any sign of Bin along the shoreline, but he saw no human activity whatsoever. Fear was bubbling in his chest, but he still couldn’t blame Myungjun for anything. Especially not when Myungjun was cutely reaching for the spyglass, a look of awe and wonder on his face. Minhyuk passed it over and showed him how to use it, which Myungjun did in excitement.

Myungjun’s excitement began to ebb as much as Minhyuk’s, though, when he seemed to realize that Bin wasn’t there.

He lowered the spyglass and leaned over the ship again, squinting at the island, but then glanced up at Minhyuk. He gestured wildly, frantically, though Minhyuk had no idea what he was trying to say.

“Where’s Bin?” Minhyuk asked, hopeful he had kept his voice down a bit so the rest of the crew wouldn’t listen. They seemed far enough away, though, as they prepared a rowboat for Minhyuk to visit the island.

Myungjun, recognizing the name  _ Bin _ , mimed the story of his rescue again. He mimed depositing Bin on the island and then swimming away again, leaving Bin where he was.

Either Bin was moving around, past the trees and away from the shore, or he was never there to begin with.

Minhyuk refused to believe a third option existed, that being that Bin was dead.

He sighed and tucked his spyglass away before heading over to the rowboat. Myungjun followed him, dragging himself along on his hands, the concern still visible on his face.

“Sanha,” Minhyuk gestured, “and Suhyun. You two will come with me.”

They didn’t seem to make any arguments to being chosen, though Sanha kept looking back at the island a bit nervously. Minhyuk left Jinwoo in charge of his vessel while they were away, and all three of them were lowered into the sea.

Myungjun followed soon after, dropping back into the water and leading the way, swimming a bit slower so that Minhyuk’s boat could keep up with him.

All the while as they rowed, Minhyuk kept thinking of reasons why Bin was not on the shore waiting for them. Perhaps he wasn’t aware that Myungjun had meant to save him. He had never been trusting of Myungjun in the first place, so it was very likely he assumed Myungjun had set a trap, just as the majority of the crew believed. Perhaps he was hungry and had gone to find something to eat, though Minhyuk didn’t think that Bin had any weapons on him to hunt with. Maybe he was curious or simply exploring, or maybe he was hidden away for some reason.

Or maybe Myungjun was lying and Bin was never on the island in the first place.

Minhyuk’s stomach turned and he forced himself to shake such a thought from his mind. He wouldn’t give in to such suspicions, not when he knew Myungjun could never harm any of them. If Myungjun said that he saved Bin, then he must have saved Bin. Any other explanation was pointless.

They arrived at the island, and Minhyuk helped the other two pull the boat out of the water, dragging it across the sand to a safe location so the tide wouldn’t wash it away again. Minhyuk took a minute or two to examine his surroundings, trying to figure out why this island wasn’t on their map. Had no one come across it in travels, or had they really been thrown too far off course, as Jinwoo claimed they might have been?

Regardless, the mystery of the island wasn’t too important. The only thing on Minhyuk’s mind was Bin. They needed to find Bin.

He glanced behind him, where Myungjun was halfway out of the water and staring up curiously at Minhyuk.

“You put Bin here, right?” Minhyuk asked, gesturing to the island.

Myungjun perked up, understanding the name  _ Bin _ , and nodded his head. He mimed, once more, bringing Bin out of water and laying him down. He seemed adamant that  _ this _ was the correct island, and that he  _ had _ saved Bin’s life. As far as Minhyuk was aware, Myungjun didn’t lie, though he had to admit that he barely knew his friend. Myungjun was a siren, a species not closely observed in such a way. Perhaps Myungjun was scheming something.

_ Don’t believe that _ , Minhyuk reminded himself, taking a deep breath and facing his crew again. “Alright,” he said, giving a large exhale. “We’ll walk a little further inland. Look out for any clues that Bin has been here; footprints, patches of clothing or hair, fires,  _ anything _ . If you see anything, grab my attention as best you can.”

Suhyun gave him an affirmative, and Sanha nodded his head. Minhyuk looked back once more to Myungjun, who offered him a sweet smile. Though the possibility of foul play still hung on his mind, Minhyuk returned the smile and Myungjun seemed a little relieved.

Then Minhyuk led his crew toward the treeline, his eyes open for any signs of life. If Bin  _ had _ gone deeper into the island, he would’ve left clues. He was smart. He was intelligent. He must have known Minhyuk would come looking for him, and it was unlikely he would allow his friend to struggle in his search.

The trees were large and close together. The overgrowth was horrible, with thorns pulling at Minhyuk’s pants and weeds practically tripping him wherever he stepped. It was obvious this island had never seen human activity, and that was at least a bit of comfort. It meant Bin, if he was here, would likely be the only human they would find.

It didn’t take very long for Sanha to point something out. He grabbed Minhyuk’s shoulder, tugging him backwards and then began to frantically talk. Minhyuk was unable to read his lips and he looked to Suhyun for translation. Suhyun had always been a bit slower to talk, a bit more cognizant of Minhyuk’s issue, and he was quick to try and remedy Sanha’s silly mistake.

“There’s a footprint.”

“Where?” 

Sanha was pointing at the ground and Minhyuk bent down lower to examine the supposed print.

It  _ was _ a footprint, though from someone with bare feet. Minhyuk furrowed his eyebrows and traced around it. Perhaps he knew Bin  _ too _ intimately and perhaps it wouldn’t be good to make such a fact known, but finding Bin was his top priority. If the crew found out they slept together, that was only a secondary problem.

“His feet are larger than this,” Minhyuk said, glancing up to Sanha and Suhyun. “And he was wearing boots when he fell over, from what I remember.”

Sanha was slower to talk this time, making sure to pronounce his words properly. “Maybe his boots were knocked off from the storm. Or maybe he took them off to dry.”

That was likely. Minhyuk nodded his head. “But why is this print smaller than Bin’s regular size?”

“It’s possible it only appears smaller,” Suhyun said. “Or maybe you were mistaken and Bin’s feet are a bit smaller. It doesn’t look that small to me. It looks like a regular size for men.”

“Not for you,” Sanha teased, glancing down at Suhyun’s boots. Suhyun  _ did _ have small feet compared to most people, but Minhyuk didn’t want to focus on that at the moment. He straightened, looking in the direction the feet were pointed.

“Whoever it is went this way. It has to be recent, too. There’s nothing to indicate it’s an older print. It was here more recently. Which means it  _ has _ to be Bin.”

Minhyuk wanted to convince himself that Bin was close by, that all they needed to do was call out for him and he would come running. Still, he didn’t want to alarm any possible predators of their existence, so he decided to remain a bit quiet, simply moving forward and calling out Bin’s name only on occasion. 

Minhyuk found the next clue, something he thought to be Bin’s hair but upon closer inspection just looked like a tuft of animal fur. It was light in color, though high enough up that Dongmin wondered if it was some sort of climbing mammal. He glanced up towards the trees but could see nothing, and he passed it off to Sanha for examination.

Sanha liked animals, he claimed happily, excitedly (excited to the point that Suhyun had to translate again). He didn't see enough of them at sea, and so he hoped it was something cute. “Maybe a fox,” he said, though the color wasn’t at all correct. “Or a rabbit. Something adorable.”

Whatever it was had fluffy fur. Sanha decided to keep it because he quite liked the feel, and Minhyuk rolled his eyes when the younger sailor stuffed the fur down into his pocket.

“We aren’t here on a wildlife expedition,” Minhyuk pointed out, shaking his head in disapproval. Sanha’s smile could not be deterred, and he simply shrugged as Minhyuk continued, “We need to find more evidence of Bin. He  _ has _ to be here, because Myungjun said he’s here.”

“I know,” Sanha assured him. “But if we discover a new species of animal  _ and _ find Bin, wouldn’t it be a wonderful use of time?”

“Finding Bin is the top priority. Finding animals is not anywhere at all  _ close _ to a priority.”

But Sanha was young, and despite his obvious flightiness, he proved to be capable of finding things that could be of importance. He found some undergrowth had been trampled by human feet and he found some berries that had been ripped and slightly squashed by human hands, and, most importantly, he found a kerchief that Minhyuk recognized to be Bin’s.

It was that kerchief that gave Minhyuk more hope, finally, and he grabbed it with excitement, holding it close to him as he exclaimed, “This is Bin’s! Bin’s been around here!”

Sanha said something; Minhyuk could hear his hum, though he didn’t look up to see what was being sad until Suhyun pulled slightly on his arm to translate.

“Sanha asked if we should be calling out for him.”

Minhyuk nodded his head, frantic to find his missing best friend, and he tried to call out as loud as Sanha and Suhyun were supposedly yelling. For several minutes they continued to traverse through the undergrowth, searching for Bin and calling out his name, but they received no response. Bin never came forward and Minhyuk’s excitement began to turn into fear.

Bin  _ should _ have been close by. He wouldn’t have wandered off too far, and even if he did, the island was silent other than their yelling. He would be able to hear, if he was anywhere close.

Which meant he was either further away or he had suffered some sort of tragic fate.

His stomach rolled over in his chest and he nearly tripped over some vines. Sanha managed to hold him and keep him from falling, and Minhyuk issued out an apology as he straightened himself. He needed to hold it together for his crew. He was aware that he couldn’t lead them all on some wild goose chase to find Bin, not when everyone had signed up for a career as a sea merchant. They likely didn’t want to explore and search for one missing sailor.

But Minhyuk didn’t want to abandon Bin. He  _ never _ wanted to abandon Bin. If he ended up searching for Bin for the rest of his life, then so be it.

The others could leave if they wanted to. Minhyuk would make it his duty to find Bin.

There was a small hill they managed to climb, though it was a bit rocky and treacherous. Suhyun stated that it should give them a better vantage point to see from afar, as the rest of the island remained relatively flat. If the hill was the highest point, then Minhyuk hoped they would uncover some sort of clue further up.

He could see their ship still out at sea, but then he noticed there was one other ship. It was a junk ship, just as his was, though smaller, made more for traveling short distances. It was hidden away in a lagoon, which explained why Minhyuk and the rest of the crew had not been aware of its existence despite its relative proximity to Minhyuk’s ship.

He glanced at Suhyun and Sanha, who stared over at the ship with wide eyes.

“Think we’ll find Bin over there?” he asked.

Sanha used his own spyglass to look closer, and he wrinkled up his nose. “I don’t see anyone,” he told Minhyuk, talking slow in order to allow Minhyuk the chance to read his words. “There’s no crew. I don’t see Bin, either.”

Minhyuk wondered if it was all a trick still, if it was some sort of trap, but his desire to save Bin outweighed any logical reasoning that was forming in his mind. He began walking down the hill without a single word, heading in the direction of the ship. When he glanced back, Suhyun and Sanha were following, though they both seemed a little bit nervous about what would await them.

Minhyuk didn’t care if an entire crew of pirates was near the ship; Bin was also likely over there, and Minhyuk would face an entire horde of pirates in order to save Bin’s life.

As they neared the shoreline, however, Sanha pulled him back. His eyes were wide in fear; Suhyun looked the same.

“Someone’s talking,” Sanha said. It was likely a whisper, for Minhyuk was unable to hear the familiar  _ hum _ he normally did.

Minhyuk’s heart quickened its beat. “Bin?” he asked.

Both Suhyun and Sanha shook their heads. “Someone...someone else,” said Sanha. He was already reaching for the weapon by his side, a simple knife, and he added, “It’s a man. Deep voice. He’s talking to someone.”

“So there’s two people?” Minhyuk questioned, readying his pistol.

Suhyun shook his head again. “Maybe. I don’t know. The other person isn’t talking back. But it’s further away; I can’t hear very well anyway because of how far he is.”

They had to be cautious, then, just in case there was more than one person. Together, the three of them crept along, keeping hidden in the trees, until they finally spotted the owner of the voice.

It was a tall man with hair the color of sand. He looked ethereal, beautiful, and shone in the sunlight. His clothes seemed rather grand for clothes of a simple sailor stuck on an island, with gold lining at the sleeves and boots made more for a palace than for the beach. Minhyuk only admired the man’s beauty briefly, however, before realizing what the man was dragging along.

Myungjun.

Poor Myungjun was tangled in fishing nets and trying his best to lash out or to get away, but the rope seemed impenetrable. Minhyuk had seen Myungjun tear through rope easily before, but no matter how much he bit or tore, this particular fishing net remained unbreakable. Still, Myungjun thrashed around, slowing the process of the man dragging him, and  _ that’s _ why the man seemed to be talking.

Minhyuk couldn’t tell what the man was saying, exactly, but he appeared to be scolding or chastising Myungjun for struggling so much. He kept shaking his head in exasperation, or else jerking the fishing net a bit in order to jolt Myungjun. It was cruel behavior to treat Myungjun in such an abysmal way.

Minhyuk wanted to stand and bring it all to a halt, but the man looked his way before Minhyuk could even conjure up a plan.

The man said something, a bit loudly. His hum was deep and rich, nothing at all like Bin’s light and sweet hum. Minhyuk glanced at Suhyun for translation, and Suhyun said, stammering over words, something to the extent of  _ sees us _ and  _ is greeting _ .

Was the strange man greeting them? Minhyuk wasn’t sure. Regardless, he had been caught anyway, and so he stood up. The man stopped in his tracks, offering a smug smile.

Myungjun looked toward Minhyuk, fear and confusion in his gaze.  _ Poor Myungjun _ , Minhyuk couldn’t help but think, and he asked, “What business do you have here?”

The man said something. He talked quickly, and Minhyuk couldn’t keep up. He glanced to Suhyun again for help, and Suhyun stood up alongside Minhyuk.

The two of them had a brief conversation, and that’s when the man began to walk towards  _ them _ rather than the boat. He still continued to drag along Myungjun, who reached a hand out of the fishing net between the rope, stretching the clawed limb out toward Minhyuk. Minhyuk wished he could comfort his friend, but he remained where he was, waiting for the man to speak again.

“Hello!” the man greeted, a little too cheerful for someone dragging a siren. “Your companion says you’re deaf?”

Minhyuk nodded his head, and the man blinked. “Fascinating. You can read my lips, then?”

“Yes.”

“How did you learn that?”

Minhyuk already answered one question; he didn’t feel like answering another one. He looked the man over and asked, “May I have your name, stranger?”

“No.” The stranger grinned. “You may have my alias. Cha Eunwoo. That ought to do, yes? There’s no reason for you to know my name, not really. The other man keeps asking, too, but I told him the same thing: Cha Eunwoo. He’s handsome. The other man, I mean, though Cha Eunwoo isn’t unpleasant to look at, either.”

Other man? Handsome? Minhyuk’s eyes widened. Beside him, where Sanha now stood, the younger boy stiffened. “You have Bin?” Minhyuk asked. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I won’t tell you. I mean no offense, but it’s simply not in my best interest to let you know.” The man smiled. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

Myungjun thrashed around again, mouthing Minhyuk’s name in his quest for assistance. Eunwoo noticed, glancing back at his catch and smiling widely at the siren. “Oh, does this siren know you? I thought it seemed rather well-trained.”

“I haven’t  _ trained _ him,” Minhyuk snapped. “Release the siren, and release my friend.”

“Or what?” Eunwoo’s eyes twinkled at the sign of a challenge. “It’s near impossible to kill me and I do hope you trust me on that. I don’t die easily, and I certainly never back down.”

That didn’t stop Minhyuk from aiming his pistol, anyway, prepared to shoot and kill if necessary. But at the end of the gun, Eunwoo rolled his eyes, now appearing quite bored with the conversation. He said something to Myungjun, something Minhyuk couldn’t decipher. His lips moved strangely, as if speaking some sort of foreign language.

It was a language that Myungjun seemed to understand, and Myungjun glanced at Minhyuk in fear.

“You speak his language?” Minhyuk asked, mostly in awe.

Eunwoo nodded his head. “When you live for a thousand years, you learn things. Sirens have a beautiful language; pity I cannot listen to this siren speak it. He’s dumb.”

“A thousand...a thousand years?” Minhyuk asked, realizing he had stumbled across yet another creature of supernatural origin.

When Eunwoo smiled at him, it seemed like a threat. Minhyuk stared at his lips intently and read out his next sentence.

“I believe I’ve said too much. I ought to go now.”

“Wait!” Minhyuk called, but Eunwoo had dropped the fishing net and was already backing away. Minhyuk held up his gun again, but before he could shoot, the man transformed between his eyes.

In Eunwoo’s place was a beautiful fox with nine tails and elegant markings across its sandy fur. Minhyuk ran for it, but the fox was faster, and it leaped away toward the boat.

The boat which, upon closer inspection, held Bin bound to one of the masts, unconscious and gagged.

Eunwoo was a kumiho, and Eunwoo had kidnapped Bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay! now that i'm quarantined indefinitely (yikes) i'll be sure to write more for my lovely followers!
> 
> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was super difficult to write! but here we are.

Minhyuk continued to run after Eunwoo, though he knew he would be unable to catch up. Eunwoo was much faster than Minhyuk was, especially now that he was in his kumiho form. He bound onto the row boat he had on shore with no issue as Minhyuk tripped over his own feet as he skidded across wet sand. Up close, Minhyuk was able to get a better look at Bin, who seemed to be waking up from all of Minhyuk’s yelling. He looked groggy, however, and unable to properly look out from the side of the ship.

As Minhyuk screamed for his friend, though, Eunwoo was already human again and was rowing the short distance to his boat.

There was no way to catch them on foot, nor would their own row boat help. Eunwoo would reach his ship by the time they returned to their own row boat, and then he would be gone.

Minhyuk could do nothing but run back to his crew members. Suhyun had followed him halfway but had stopped when he realized they wouldn’t reach Bin in time. Now he followed Minhyuk back to where Sanha was trying to free Myungjun from the net.

“Pick him up,” Minhyuk ordered the two crewmates, gesturing to Myungjun. “We’ll get him out of there when we get back to the ship. For now, we need to follow that damn kumiho and get Bin back.”

He started to walk past but stopped when he felt a hand reach out to grab onto his pants leg. He glanced down at Myungjun, still completely tangled in the net, a discernible expression on his face. “Let go,” Minhyuk ordered, and when Myungjun did not, he ripped himself free from Myungjun’s sharp claws.

Myungjun mouthed his name and Minhyuk felt a ping of guilt for treating his friend so poorly. He ought to be helping Myungjun. After all, Myungjun had helped him many times before. But his worry for Bin outweighed his care for Myungjun, and he continued to walk, knowing that Suhyun and Sanha could handle Myungjun by themselves.

They made it to the boat and dumped Myungjun onto it first. His elbow hit one of the seats as he was tucked onto the floor of the cramped row boat. Once more, Minhyuk felt guilty, and he took the time to rub at Myungjun’s arm and look for any damage. Sanha began to row out to the ship as Minhyuk examined his friend closely.

Myungjun didn’t appear too hurt, other than possible bruising, but Minhyuk still frowned. “Sorry,” he told Myungjun. Myungjun didn’t understand those words, and so Minhyuk continued, “I’m worried about Bin.”

_ Bin _ , mouthed Myungjun, pointing over to the hidden lagoon where Eunwoo’s ship was. Eunwoo had probably departed the island by that point, and Minhyuk’s heart raced with fear and worry. Poor Bin was stuck with a kumiho, all alone and without much chance of rescue, unless their larger ship managed to somehow outrun Eunwoo’s. Minhyuk wondered what Eunwoo would do to Bin, why he had kidnapped Bin in the first place.

Myungjun pointed again, mouthing Bin’s name for a second time. Minhyuk nodded his head, and then Myungjun, shifting painfully in the netting, put his hands up to his head, drawing out fox ears. He mouthed something in that weird language that Minhyuk couldn’t quite figure out. It was likely his own name for the kumiho.

“It’s a kumiho,” Minhyuk told him. He copied Myungjun’s movements and repeated slowly, “Kumiho.”

Myungjun was quick to catch on.  _ Kumiho _ , he mouthed, and then he pointed to his lips. Two clawed fingers tapped onto pretty, plump lips and he mimed a kiss before pointing back to where the kumiho’s ship lay.

Minhyuk wasn’t quite sure he understood. He glanced over to Suhyun, who kept as far away from Myungjun as he could. Suhyun shrugged his shoulders in response to Minhyuk’s wordless question before asking, “Is the kumiho going to kiss Bin?”

“I’m not sure,” Minhyuk admitted. He looked back down to Myungjun, curious as to what the siren knew. Myungjun mimed the kiss again and then mouthed,  _ Bin. Kumiho. _

Many thoughts flitted through Minhyuk’s mind. Was Eunwoo going to rape Bin? Or was he going to force him into an arranged marriage? Did kumiho’s give power when they kissed, just as sirens could? What was the purpose of a kiss?

Myungjun seemed frustrated that Minhyuk couldn’t understand him. He struggled in the netting, which Minhyuk was quick to try and remove. His knife didn’t work on the ropes, unfortunately, and he asked, “Is this some sort of unbreakable net?”

Suhyun answered him, tapping on his shoulders to give a response. “I’ve heard before that kumihos can perform certain magic on various objects. It’s likely that the kumiho made the rope strong enough that a siren couldn’t break free.”

“Maybe he’s scared of sirens,” Minhyuk mused, remembering how Eunwoo had been dragging Myungjun across the sandy ground in an effort to keep a good distance between the two. He groaned and asked, “Why the hell did he kidnap Bin? And why would he kidnap a siren along with Bin? It doesn’t make any sense.”

No one had any answers for him, and the one person who  _ did _ was unable to communicate properly. Minhyuk bit back his anger as he worked on untying the netting to free Myungjun. By the time they made it back to the ship, Myungjun was finally released from his bondage and could climb up to the ship all on his own.

Minhyuk rushed to Jinwoo and quickly gave him orders. “Round the island,” he demanded. “There’s a ship leaving a lagoon just a bit away from us. Follow that ship; a kumiho has Bin.”

“A kumiho?” Jinwoo asked. When Minhyuk glared at him, he glanced over to Sanha and Suhyun, who both nodded their heads in confirmation.

Fortunately, Jinwoo asked no more questions, and they began the slow, agonizing chase.

Minhyuk wished he had picked up books concerning mythological creatures other than sirens. He was loaded with information on his new friend but had no knowledge of Eunwoo and what he would do to Bin.

Myungjun tugged on his pants leg yet again. He knew about the kumiho. The kumiho had spoken to him, at least, and Myungjun was privy to some sort of information that the rest of them weren’t. Minhyuk realized he would have to try very hard to communicate.

He thought back to the night Bin disappeared. They had created a drawing together, a sketch in order to communicate better with Myungjun. Perhaps Minhyuk could try doing something similar now. Perhaps Myungjun could make some sort of sketch in order to demonstrate what the kumiho wanted with Bin.

“I’m taking him down to my cabin,” Minhyuk announced to Jinwoo. He hoisted Myungjun up the best he could. Myungjun was quick to grab onto him, claws gripping Minhyuk’s arm as if scared to be dropped again. 

Jinwoo seemed shocked. “Why?”

“He’s going to draw me a picture to explain why the kumiho kidnapped Bin. I think that’s the only way to give us more knowledge on our enemy.”

He stepped out to leave, but Jinwoo stopped him, tapping his shoulder cautiously. When Minhyuk glanced at him, Jinwoo asked, “Is this worth it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re losing lots of money by doing this. We are expected at port in two days, but this has thrown us completely off course, and if we continue chasing, then we’ll—”

Minhyuk scoffed, effectively interrupting his navigator. “I’ll toss out everything on board if it means we move faster. I’ll give up my entire career if it means we can catch up to Bin. I’ll die if it means I can save him. He’s the most important person in my life, and I won’t leave him to suffer at the hands of a kumiho.” Myungjun was heavy in his arms. Minhyuk grunted as he shifted the siren’s body weight. “You can leave next time we make port. I won’t stop you. But I’m going to ensure Bin is safe.”

He didn’t wait to hear a response, though he was certain that Jinwoo wouldn’t give one. Jinwoo appeared thoughtful, not cruel, and so Minhyuk harbored no ill will towards his crewmate. He shuffled down to his cabin, giving one last look to the ship far ahead of them as he prayed Bin would remain healthy and well until they could catch up to him.

Down in his cabin, he dumped Myungjun onto the bed and laughed lightly. “You’re not as heavy as I thought you would be,” he commented, though Myungjun only had eyes for the rest of the room. His eyes were wide in amazement as his gaze roamed over Minhyuk’s books and his table and his wall hangings. Fingers gently pet at the sheets as the siren marveled over the new material he had likely never come across before.

His wonder was precious, and Minhyuk found himself watching, enthralled at the fact that Myungjun was so unfamiliar with such normal objects.

“That’s a blanket,” Minhyuk stated, gesturing to the bedsheets. Myungjun glanced up at him and Minhyuk patted the blanket. “Blanket,” he repeated.

_ Blanket _ , mouthed Myungjun.

“This is where I sleep. On a bed.” 

Myungjun didn’t understand, and Minhyuk decided it was pointless to teach him at the moment. Bin’s situation was far more dire, and so Minhyuk turned to his table and grabbed some papers and a pen. 

“Can you draw for me?” he asked, passing his supplies over to Myungjun. Myungjun gingerly took each one. He sniffed the pen and wrinkled his nose before looking up at Minhyuk, confusion evident in his gaze. “Draw,” Minhyuk repeated, and he mimed drawing with his spare pen. When it was clear Myungjun still didn’t understand, Minhyuk took one of the papers and began drawing the kumiho. He sat next to Myungjun on the bed and Myungjun peered over his shoulder. He jolted a bit when Minhyuk made lines appear on paper, and Minhyuk giggled. 

“It’s alright,” he assured the siren. “That’s supposed to happen. Why don’t you try?” He gestured to the pen Myungjun held. Myungjun looked down at his pen and then back at Minhyuk, who nodded his head in encouragement. Slowly, carefully, Myungjun put the pen to the paper and dragged it across, creating a small line.

Myungjun, eyes wide, continued to make lines until Minhyuk had to stop him. Half the paper was already covered in lines, and Minhyuk needed Myungjun to hurry and draw the kumiho instead.

“Look,” he demanded, tapping his own image of a kumiho. With nine tails and large ears, he hoped Myungjun would understand. “Can you draw a kumiho?”

Myungjun didn’t seem to understand. He tapped Minhyuk’s drawing and shook his head.

“I need you to draw it,” Minhyuk begged. “Please? I need to know what the kumiho will do to Bin.”

Myungjun recognized the name, at least, and he mouthed,  _ Bin _ . Then, slowly, realization bloomed in his eyes. He pointed to the kumiho again and mouthed Bin’s name for a second time. Before Minhyuk could ask what it meant, what the kumiho had to do with Bin, Myungjun leaned forward and planted a kiss onto Minhyuk’s lips.

This kiss wasn’t as chaste as the others had been. Gone was the kiss for life, and in its place was a passionate kiss, one that had Myungjun leaning over Minhyuk and grasping onto him. Minhyuk, frozen in place, could feel Myungjun’s tongue pushing against his lips to gain entry.

Minhyuk let him.

Myungjun’s tongue was heavy and wet and Minhyuk moaned into the kiss, hopeful that the noises he made weren’t too loud, hopeful that no one above deck could hear them. He wrapped his arms around Myungjun’s naked torso, fingers brushing against some scales he felt on the back of Myungjun’s shoulders. He kissed back deeply, pushing his chest into the siren.

It was lovely. Myungjun was enticing and seductive. Myungjun had managed to kiss away all of Minhyuk’s troubles. Bin was hardly a blip on the radar, and Minhyuk found it shocking how little he cared in that moment. Was this the power of a siren? Was this how they were able to keep men within their grasp? It felt  _ so good _ , and Minhyuk’s hand snaked up Myungjun’s back and buried itself in Myungjun’s gorgeous, orange hair. He pulled at damp, curly locks as the kiss continued.

Suddenly, Myungjun moved away. His pretty, pink lips were red from abuse and his cheeks were flushed with passion. Still, he was more focused on the drawing of the kumiho, which he pointed to with determination.

Minhyuk was dazed. He could hardly keep his eyes focused on anything but Myungjun. Had Myungjun charmed him? Had Myungjun properly seduced him? Had Myungjun used powers to get him into this state?

Myungjun reached out and pinched Minhyuk’s cheek. It hurt, and Minhyuk tried to slap his hand away as he felt the claws dig into his skin. Fortunately, Myungjun was quick to let go, and he gestured to the kumiho drawing. Then, he pointed at Minhyuk and mouthed  _ Bin _ .

Minhyuk struggled to return to reality. His face felt flushed. He was embarrassed he had so easily let himself go. “What?”

Myungjun huffed in frustration. He pointed at the drawing of the kumiho and then again to Minhyuk, mouthing  _ Bin _ . He mouthed it over and over again, his finger jabbing into Minhyuk’s chest.  _ Bin. Bin. Bin. Bin. _

Slowly, Minhyuk was gaining an understanding. “The...the kumiho is going to kiss Bin?”

Before Minhyuk could think through what he was even saying, Myungjun kissed him again. This time, Minhyuk was far more willing and compliant. He wanted this; god, did he  _ want _ this! He wanted Myungjun to kiss him forever. He wanted Myungjun to drag him down to the depths of the ocean with their lips forever pressed together.

But this kiss didn’t last nearly as long. Myungjun drew away from him hurriedly and then repeated his pointing and his mouthing.  _ Kumiho. Bin. Kumiho. Bin _ . He pointed at himself this time for the kumiho and Minhyuk blinked away the lust he felt. 

“The kumiho will kiss Bin.” He understood that much at least, so he nodded his head. “Why?”

Myungjun might not have understood specific words, but he grasped the concept of a questioning tone. He screwed his face up in thought before pointing to his head. 

Minhyuk didn’t understand that.

Myungjun pointed to his head, and then to Minhyuk’s head. He pointed to the maps on the wall and the papers strewn around Minhyuk’s large table and to the books that were held on the shelving units.

When he pointed at his head one more time, Minhyuk finally understood. “Intelligence.”

He had heard a tale when he was younger, far younger, of mythical creatures who would steal away a human’s intelligence. They wanted smart humans, humans who could read and write. They wanted well-traveled humans, humans who understood multiple cultures. They wanted humans just like Bin, who could offer them an array of knowledge. 

As Minhyuk pondered this, Myungjun began to tear some of the paper he had already drawn on. He rolled it into a small ball and then stuck it in his mouth. Before Minhyuk could react, Myungjun was kissing him for a third time.

Minhyuk wanted to keep Myungjun close. Minhyuk wanted to keep Myungjun’s lips on his. But he felt something prod into his mouth; Myungjun’s tongue, with that rolled up ball of paper.

Myungjun drew back, leaving the paper resting on Minhyuk’s tongue. It was weird and confusing, and Minhyuk spit the paper into his hands.

“What the fuck does this mean?” he asked.

Myungjun took the paper from Minhyuk’s hands and began gesturing at all signs of  _ intelligence _ . The maps, the papers, the books — and then he pointed at the spit-laden ball of paper.

“Oh,” Minhyuk whispered. “Oh my god.”

The paper was meant to represent the intelligence that the kumiho would steal from poor Bin. It would collect all of Bin’s knowledge in one little ball after kissing him and charming him.

Bin would then remain as a shell of his former self. The kumiho would likely toss him aside, for what good was the shell of a human?

Bin would die if he was left in the hands of the kumiho for too long.

Minhyuk tossed the piece of paper aside before scrambling up to his feet. “How do we save Bin?” he asked. “How the hell am I supposed to catch up to that thing? How...how do we stop the kumiho from ruining Bin? I can’t have him die! I need him alive, Myungjun. I love him so much, an-and if he dies, I don’t know what I’ll do!”

He could feel himself growing more hysteric with every passing second, but Myungjun reached a hand out to grasp onto his arm. It was a gentle touch, a comforting touch, and Minhyuk could feel his body relaxing with every passing second. Myungjun stared into his eyes and Minhyuk was shocked to find pity on his expression.

Could sirens even feel pity?  _ Pity _ was such a human-like emotion. It wasn’t something that man-eating beasts were ever supposed to demonstrate.

Myungjun was more similar to humans than Minhyuk had given him credit for.

“Can you help?” he asked, hopeful. He grabbed Myungjun’s hand and held it within his own. Myungjun felt warm to the touch. Myungjun’s skin was slick and soft. “Can you help me?” he repeated. “Can you go stop that ship for me?”

It was obvious Myungjun understood nothing that Minhyuk was saying, and so Minhyuk struggled to act it out. “The kumiho,” he said, drawing out ears on the top of his head.

Myungjun repeated  _ kumiho _ .

Minhyuk nodded. “Kill him?” he asked.

Myungjun cocked his head, curious, and so Minhyuk struggled to mime the word  _ kill _ . He wrapped his hands around his neck and pretended to choke, pretended to suffocate, pretended to die. He slumped over on his bed to demonstrate a dead body.

Myungjun leaned over him. His breath fanned out across Minhyuk’s cheek, and Minhyuk couldn’t remain dead for long, not with Myungjun staring down at him with such worry and concern.

Minhyuk smiled and then drew the ears again. “Kumiho,” he whispered.

The siren grinned and nodded his head eagerly. He pointed at a random wall, out to the sea where the kumiho was still sailing away with Bin, and mouthed,  _ Kumiho _ . Before Minhyuk could respond, he brought his hand down, pointing to their own ship, and mouthed,  _ Bin _ .

Minhyuk knew what he was trying to say.  _ Kill the kumiho and bring Bin back _ .

“Yes,” he murmured.

Myungjun’s grin was toothy, with his fangs glinting in the little light the room offered, and he nodded his head again.

Minhyuk lugged Myungjun back upstairs to the main deck. The kumiho’s ship was even further away now, and Jinwoo glanced over to Minhyuk in worry. He said something, but Minhyuk had to drop Myungjun and step closer in order to read Jinwoo’s lips better.

“What?” he asked.

Jinwoo repeated himself, slower this time. “His ship is faster than ours. Unless he makes port, I don’t know how on earth we’re going to catch up to them.”

Jinwoo was correct, unfortunately. Just as Minhyuk had earlier surmised, the kumiho had a smaller and faster ship. The only chance they had to get Bin was by waiting for the kumiho to stop; but by that point, it might be too late.

Minhyuk turned to Myungjun, who had straightened himself up and was waiting for Minhyuk’s next command.

It had seemed so simple, down in his cabin, to inquire of Myungjun to attack a ship. It had seemed easy enough to order his new best friend to go and risk his life to save his old best friend. Now, however, he was having second thoughts. Myungjun could fight easily underwater, but would he be able to take on a kumiho? Would he be able to block punches and to dodge kicks? What if the kumiho used magic on him, or else captured him again for his own nefarious purposes? There were so many risks involved in forcing Myungjun to go and rescue Bin.

And why should he keep expecting Myungjun to do all of his dirty work? Myungjun had already rescued him once, and he rescued Bin once. That was more than enough, wasn’t it? Myungjun was no hired warrior, nor was he anyone close enough to the crew to continue taking on such adventures. 

Minhyuk wanted so badly to ask Myungjun what  _ he _ wanted to do, or what he wanted out of this, but he knew there was no way to properly communicate. All he could do was kneel by Myungjun’s side and point to the kumiho’s ship, hesitating slightly before stretching out his finger. Myungjun didn’t look over at the ship; rather, he stared intently at Minhyuk, examining his expression.

Minhyuk offered him a small smile. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he whispered, for Myungjun’s ears only. Even if Myungjun would not grasp the meaning behind the jumble of words he was hearing, Minhyuk needed to still say it.

Myungjun cocked his head. Confusion was evident in his gaze. Minhyuk cleared his throat and tried again. “You don’t owe me anything. I owe  _ you _ , Myungjun. This seems unfair.”

Perhaps it was Minhyuk’s own tone of voice and his own expression, hopeless and scared and concerned, that gave Myungjun some understanding. The siren smiled brightly and planted his hand across Minhyuk’s cheek. He was still warm to the touch, still a bit scaley and slick and  _ weird _ , but it was oddly comforting. 

Minhyuk placed his own hand over top of Myungjun’s. He could feel Myungjun’s clawed fingers, though he was impressed how gently Myungjun was treating him, as if aware that one wrong move could cut Minhyuk’s skin open.

“You don’t have to go,” Minhyuk told him. “You can stay here.”

Myungjun pointed at the kumiho’s ship with his free hand. He jabbed at it and then mouthed,  _ Bin _ .

Maybe Minhyuk was confusing him too much. He sure did seem a little confused, with his eyebrows furrowed together and his nose scrunched up as he tried to decipher Minhyuk’s words.

And maybe Minhyuk was trying too hard to convey his own thoughts and emotions. Besides, shouldn’t he be happy that Myungjun was trying to save Bin? He would have risked his own life to save Bin. Why, then, was he trying so hard to keep Myungjun from doing the same?

He took Myungjun’s hand off his own cheek and, before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and planted a kiss onto Myungjun’s cute nose. It seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed like the correct way to show a quick bout of gratitude.

“Thank you,” he murmured to Myungjun.

Myungjun blinked owlishly at Minhyuk. He touched the tip of his nose with one of his fingers, as if trying to feel the kiss. When he felt nothing but his own skin, he looked up at Minhyuk in confusion once again.

Minhyuk felt himself blush. He didn’t want to explain the kiss; he didn’t know how to explain the kiss, anyway. He had felt compelled to kiss Myungjun, and he wasn’t sure if he was still suffering side-effects of being charmed or if his heart had somehow developed feelings for Myungjun that were greater than friendship.

He wouldn’t dwell on it. Not now, when Bin needed to be rescued.

“Go,” he said, gesturing over to the ship just ahead of them.

Myungjun stared at Minhyuk for a few more seconds, and Minhyuk swore that he looked pleased. The siren looked  _ happy _ to have been kissed, and Minhyuk’s heart beat quicker in his chest.

He couldn’t ask about it, however, for Myungjun suddenly began to pull himself away, toward the edge of the ship, where he unceremoniously dropped into the water below.

Minhyuk peered over to watch, but someone crouched beside him at the same time.

“Hello, Sanha,” greeted Minhyuk as he craned his neck to try and see where Myungjun had gone.

Sanha poked his shoulder and Minhyuk looked over at him. “You kissed him.”

Damn. Minhyuk had forgotten how many people were on deck. “Who saw?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Sanha glanced behind him and so Minhyuk did the same. He could count at least five of the crewmembers, all of whom were pretending not to notice Minhyuk’s frustrated glare.

“All of them, hm?” Minhyuk mused. He felt a blush appear on his cheeks and so he turned his attention back to the water, hopeful that he, and everyone else on board, would be able to forget the kiss.

Sanha nudged him again, forcing Minhyuk’s attention to snap back to him. “Do you love him?” Sanha asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, you kiss people you love, right?”

Minhyuk thought of Bin, of the loveless kisses he planted across Minhyuk’s entire body. Minhyuk thought of the way Bin moved above him, or below him, or right by his side. Minhyuk recalled the lust and the desire in Bin’s eyes, and no love there save for a friendship. Bin would never offer him anything other than friendship. Bin would never kiss him out of romantic intentions.

“No,” Minhyuk replied. “Not always.”

He could feel Sanha still gazing at him, still curious, but he said nothing else of the kiss between him and Myungjun. He instead looked out to the sea, wondering how long it would take for Myungjun to reach the kumiho’s ship. He wondered what Myungjun would do once he got there. How could one mute siren stop an entire ship? Was it even possible?

Minhyuk felt antsy. “I should’ve gone with him,” he muttered. If he had gone, he could at least offer his help. Maybe he could reason with the kumiho; Myungjun would be unable to do that much. 

Sanha spoke, and Minhyuk looked at him.

“I said, it’s probably better you didn’t. The siren seems to know how to fight; at least, he seems willing to fight. You might just get in the way. You wouldn’t be able to bring a gun, since it would get wet, and if all you had on you was a knife then you’d be at a disadvantage. Myungjun has claws and fangs. He can take care of himself.”

That was probably the truth, but it didn’t help Minhyuk feel any less worried.

He saw movement in the water, and he snapped his attention back to the ocean below him. Myungjun broke through the surface, his hair slicked back and his eyes wide. With frantic movements, he gestured wildly into the waters and then pointed at the kumiho’s ship.

“What’s wrong?” Minhyuk asked, though he knew he wouldn’t get a coherent response. “Myungjun, is everything alright?”

He realized then that there was something else in the water, something large and foreboding, and it was close to the kumiho’s ship. He watched in horror as the ship in front of them jolted violently, the water beneath it rolling and bubbling.

His own men were making a commotion. He could hear their hums and feel heavy footsteps pounding across the deck as they all rushed to the edge of their ship, gazing out toward the sudden chaos with interest and confusion.

Before Minhyuk could even collect his bearings and figure out what was going on, the kumiho’s ship was pushed yet again. Out of the water came the head of a large dragon. It had a fish-like appearance, resembling some sort of deep sea creature some sailors had caught before, but its size was massive. It was unlike anything Minhyuk had seen, and he gripped onto Myungjun’s arm in fright.

The dragon leaned forward and snapped its teeth. Minhyuk wondered if it was trying to eat the kumiho or Bin.

Regardless, he wasn’t going to sit by and watch his best friend die at the hands of a dragon. He had to help. He had to at least pull Bin off the ship somehow.

So he jumped straight into the water and began desperately swimming.

It was likely he would die, facing off with a water dragon, but he was willing to die if it meant he could save Bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont do action very well so forgive this mess

Minhyuk had been a young boy when he first learned of water dragons.  _ Jiaolongs _ , they were called. They were long, ferocious creatures that would travel throughout the ocean and attack ships they came across. They would expel a sticky saliva, which was used to drag their prey underwater. They sucked blood from the armpits of humans and would discard the corpse down to the depths of the water. They were nasty, vile creatures with no soul and no conscience — they were also mystical beings, the likes of which were hardly ever seen. There were skeletons, sure, and men who claimed to have cut off the head of the jiaolong, but there were never any verified sightings.

When he first heard of the sea monsters, he had been excited to tell Bin. He had drawn out pictures, images of what he assumed a jiaolong would truly look like. Bin, ten years old at the time of Minhyuk’s discovery, had rolled his eyes and said, “Do you think they really exist?”

“I dunno,” Minhyuk responded, feeling a bit upset that Bin didn’t share his enthusiasm. “Lots of sailors have claimed to come across one. Surely something similar must exist, don’t you think?”

“Well, if they do exist, they don’t look a thing like your drawing. They probably look more like this.” And then Bin proceeded to scribble out Minhyuk’s artistic rendering of a jiaolong and sketch his own. 

Minhyuk had thought Bin’s drawing was uglier, but when he mentioned it, Bin said, “Jiaolongs are ugly. Of course I drew him ugly.”

“That’s not what I meant. Your lines are wonky.”

“And a jiaolong is probably wonky, too.”

There was no use arguing to Bin. He never did seem to care what others thought, and he was oddly confrontational about anything he deemed necessary to fight for. Apparently, he thought the jiaolong deserved that confrontation.

They never really did discuss the jiaolong much after that. It came up over the years from time to time, usually when one of them read about mythological creatures, or else when their crewmates would mention monsters they had seen before. Regardless, they never did see one for themselves and Minhyuk had given up hope of the mysterious jiaolong ever existing.

Yet now, as he swam out towards this strange monster, he was certain it was a jiaolong. It fit all of the descriptions; it was a water dragon with four limbs and a face shaped like a tiger. Minhyuk couldn’t tell if it was trying to spit out saliva or not, but he hoped he  _ wouldn’t _ find out. Last thing he wanted was for that beast to capture Bin and start sucking his blood.

He popped his head out of water briefly to catch some air, but before he could go under, someone grabbed his arm and tugged him. Minhyuk spun his head around and wasn’t at all surprised to see Myungjun, holding onto him and pointing back to his own ship with worry.

“I have to save Bin!” Minhyuk exclaimed, trying to pull his arm away from his friend. “Bin’s on that ship!”

The jiaolong hit the ship hard again. Minhyuk was certain that the ship was cracking. It looked to be taking on water and sinking, too, and he cursed loudly as he yanked his arm from Myungjun’s grip.

He went underwater again, swimming desperately for the ship, and Myungjun swam along beside him. Minhyuk only caught glimpses, but Myungjun seemed desperate and concerned. Minhyuk had never seen a siren look so scared before. He wondered if sirens and jiaolongs were enemies. It sure seemed that way.

He wanted to go up for air again, but as he struggled to break the surface, Myungjun reached for him. Minhyuk tried to jerk back, but Myungjun was a siren; he was used to the water and he knew how to control his speed better than Minhyuk did. Fortunately, when Myungjun grabbed him a second time, he didn’t hold tight, nor did he try to force Minhyuk back to his ship. Instead, he kissed Minhyuk deeply, instilling new breath within him.

Did that mean he would help?

Myungjun pulled back and seemed to take a deep breath, almost as if steeling himself for what lay ahead. Even if he wouldn’t help, it seemed he would let Minhyuk go, in any case, and Minhyuk was quick to lean forward and offer him another kiss.

He couldn’t thank Myungjun underwater, and it was unlikely that Myungjun would even know what he meant, but he smiled and then began to swim back towards the kumiho’s ship.

Myungjun pulled him along, increasing his speed, and Minhyuk wondered how on earth he got so lucky. Who else would have a siren willing to risk everything to help a bunch of humans? It was unheard of, and Minhyuk wanted to find out more about Myungjun’s past life and why he was so willing to assist humans.

Not now, though. Not until he had Bin safe by his side.

He was close now, and he popped his head out of water to come up with a plan. It would have been more wise to figure things out  _ before _ jumping into the ocean to face off with a monster, but Minhyuk always acted before he thought. This time was certainly no different. He didn’t even have a weapon on him, and he felt very foolish and very frightened.

The jiaolong hit the ship again. This time, something definitely broke, and Minhyuk watched with horror as the mast that Bin was tied to crashed over into the sea. It was a small mast for a small ship, which simply meant it was able to break away easier than it would otherwise.

Bin went down with it.

Minhyuk had to get to him before he either drowned or was taken by the jialong, and so he dived again, trying his best to dodge fallen pieces of the ship and focus solely on the mast, which was moving fast. 

Fortunately, Myungjun recognized Bin and seemed to understand the dire situation. He went even quicker, swimming frantically to Bin, who was pulling and tugging at his rope bonds in a desperate attempt to escape.

Myungjun wasn’t alone in his quest to free Bin. He was joined by the kumiho, who seemed to be able to breathe underwater and was doing his best to communicate with Myungjun. Perhaps he was speaking in the siren language again, for Myungjun nodded his head and kissed Bin deeply, delivering life unto him, before working with the kumiho to untie the ropes.

Minhyuk glanced above them. The jiaolong was still biting away at the ship, likely trying to find someone within, but it wouldn’t be long before he noticed the four figures swimming just below the surface.

By the time Minhyuk reached the others, he was struggling to maintain the air he had. Myungjun took notice and gave him a quick kiss before delivering the same type of kiss to Bin.

Minhyuk briefly wondered why he felt jealous over that simple kiss. He also briefly wondered why the hell the kumiho was desperately tugging away on Bin’s bondage, as if he wasn’t the one who put him there in the first place.

Minhyuk did his best to wipe those thoughts away for the time being. He could be confused about his feelings (and about the kumiho) when they were safe. Right now, they were all in a terrible position and Minhyuk was determined to get everyone out of the situation as safely as possible.

Once Bin was freed, Minhyuk grabbed his hand and began to pull him up to the surface. Bin was a fast swimmer and seemed unharmed, other than a few marks where the rope had tugged at his skin, and so he was capable enough that Minhyuk wasn’t dragging him along.

Unfortunately, it was then that the jiaolong seemed to notice the humans he was searching for were swimming away.

It left the boat and used its limbs and long tail to swim toward them, a snarl on its face as it flowed down through the water. Bin pulled Minhyuk back and they just barely missed the teeth.

They had to keep swimming up, though, regardless of the monster trying to kill them. If they didn’t make it to the surface, they might be caught in the jialong’s sticky saliva, and then they would be done for.

Myungjun kissed them both again before pushing them up to the surface. The kumiho helped, though he wasn’t as great of a swimmer as Myungjun was. Still, he pulled and tugged to the best of his abilities, until he was suddenly yanked backwards.

Minhyuk glanced over and his eyes widened when he noticed the jiaolong had managed to get him, and was gleefully ensnaring him in a thick, sticky-looking substance.

The kumiho was as good as dead, and Minhyuk decided he could be a sacrifice to get the rest of them out of there.

Bin, however, didn’t think the same way. 

Bin dropped Minhyuk’s hand and began to swim toward the kumiho, much to Minhyuk’s chagrin.  _ Why _ was Bin helping the creature who had kidnapped him? Why was Bin risking his life to save something that was considered evil? The kumiho had plans to steal Bin’s intelligence, to make him little more than a shell. Was that worth saving?

Minhyuk couldn’t go to the surface now, not when he would leave Bin behind, and he turned and followed his friend. Myungjun remained by his side, offering him one more kiss in an effort to give him breath, and Minhyuk pointed desperately toward Bin, trying to convey the need to save him first and foremost.

Myungjun needn’t rescue them all, especially when they  _ had _ the chance to escape and they wouldn’t take it. Myungjun ought to leave, for clearly he was much more intelligent than the humans he had grown attached to. Yet he still hurried ahead, swimming toward the jiaolong with clear determination written on his expression.

Minhyuk wanted to go to him, to help him fight off the sea dragon, but he knew he needed to help Bin first and foremost. Bin would run out of breath and drown if he wasn’t fast enough, and so with two people pulling the kumiho free, Bin would have a much better chance at survival.

As they tugged and tore apart the saliva, Myungjun had gotten the jiaolong’s attention. Minhyuk caught glimpses here and there, when he looked up from his work, of Myungjun dodging the dragon’s frantic attacks, his lithe body gliding gracefully away from large claws. He finally managed to get on the jiaolong’s back, and his own clawed hands had dug down into the jiaolong’s skin and he was tearing with his teeth whatever soft spots he could find. The dragon thrashed around wildly and it was then that Bin and Minhyuk managed to free the kumiho.

The kumiho helped them both back to surface. Minhyuk gasped for breath, coughing and sputtering as he looked around him for Myungjun.

Myungjun had yet to rise.

He glanced at his friend and yelled, “Swim to the ship! I’m going to find Myungjun!” He didn’t wait for Bin’s response. He  _ wouldn’t _ wait for Bin’s response, not when poor Myungjun was fighting a dragon off all by himself.

Minhyuk’s heart raced as he dived back down into the ocean, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He could see the dragon; Myungjun was putting up a good fight, at least, and the dragon seemed to be faltering in its movements. There was blood in the water, too, spouting from somewhere along the jiaolong’s neck, which Myungjun seemed particularly interested in ripping into. Minhyuk wondered if he should simply leave Myungjun alone to his own devices. He wondered if he should anticipate Myungjun’s survival and return back to his ship so he could properly check on Bin.

Just as he wondered such, however, the dragon managed to lay a hit on Myungjun, and his body propelled across the water. 

Minhyuk swam towards his friend in a hurry. He could already see wounds that had formed across the siren’s stomach, deep marks that were likely to bleed a lot once they were out of the water. Still, Myungjun didn’t falter much. He pushed through, ignoring the pain, only pausing when he caught sight of Minhyuk.

He reached Minhyuk, keeping an eye on the struggling dragon. His eyes scoured Minhyuk’s body, as if looking for evidence of harm, and when he found none, he kissed Minhyuk deeply in order to give him breath. Then he pointed up towards the surface, gesturing for Minhyuk to save himself.

Minhyuk, however, shook his head and grasped onto Myungjun’s hand.

He wanted to help. He wanted to ensure that Myungjun would survive the ordeal. Still, he could tell by Myungjun’s expression that he wasn’t necessarily fit to take on a sea dragon. He had no special weapons on him, save for a small knife stashed away.

A knife. A knife he had completely forgotten about. 

He reached down into his pocket, checking for the knife, and was pleased to see that it had managed to stick alongside him the entire time. He held it up and gestured at the jiaolong, which was now searching for Myungjun.

Myungjun snatched the knife away and examined it briefly before realization bloomed in his gaze. He knew what it was. At the very least, he seemed to understand that it was sharp and useful in attacking giant sea monsters. He pushed Minhyuk one last time, gesturing for him to swim up.

Minhyuk looked at Myungjun’s chest, at the blood that was swirling in the water, at the way he winced when he twisted his torso too much. It was obvious that Myungjun was in pain, and yet he was willing to risk himself, to risk even more pain, in order to ensure that Minhyuk and his crew survived the attack.

The jiaolong was coming for them. Minhyuk could see it swimming their way, but Myungjun seemed to hear it. Somehow, Myungjun seemed to recognize sounds in the ocean, though if Minhyuk were to really think it through, he supposed that would make sense. Myungjun was a siren and had likely heard other sea creatures underwater.

Myungjun shoved Minhyuk aside and swam to meet the jiaolong. Minhyuk realized there wasn’t much he could do. Myungjun had taken his weapon. Minhyuk was a sitting duck out here.

It just felt wrong to leave Myungjun.

So he slowly made his way up towards the surface, making sure to keep his eyes below him, to examine the fight that was taking place between Myungjun and the jiaolong. Myungjun was faring far better than before. The jiaolong was already more heavily wounded, so its movements seemed slower. Myungjun, despite his pain, was quick, darting this way and that, slicing at the jiaolong whenever he saw an opening.

The final blow was a stab to the chest. The jiaolong twitched a few times before it began to fall down to the ocean floor, its body limp and lifeless. Myungjun tore out the knife and grabbed a handful of scales, ripping them out of the body, before he swam up to join Minhyuk.

He was smiling, and somehow he looked so adorable like that, his cheeks round and rosy and his eyes alight with mirth, even as he was covered in both his own blood and the blood of a sea monster. He held tightly onto the scales he had plundered from the dead jiaolong, though Minhyuk was uncertain as to the importance of such simple objects.

Regardless, he was so thankful that Myungjun was safe. He had been afraid Myungjun would die, and he would have to sit around and watch. He was terrified Myungjun would be killed for protecting  _ him _ , and he quickly pulled Myungjun into a tight embrace in an effort to show even a bit of the appreciation he felt for such a wonderful friend.

Myungjun hugged back. Minhyuk could feel the scales digging into his skin and he would have chuckled, if not for the fact he was underwater. He planted a kiss onto Myungjun’s cheek instead, and that somehow prompted Myungjun to pull back from the embrace and stare at Minhyuk in confusion.

_ Sorry _ , Minhyuk mouthed, though he couldn’t stop smiling.

Myungjun kissed him in return, his lips shyly pressing up against Minhyuk’s own.

It wasn’t a kiss of life, nor was it like any of their kisses shared in the privacy of Minhyuk’s cabin. This was chaste and cute, the kiss of someone with romantic intentions.

Minhyuk could do nothing but stare at the siren with wide eyes until he pulled away.

Why had Myungjun kissed him? Did he even understand anything about romance? It was possible he was copying what Minhyuk had done to him twice already, but how would he know to kiss back on the lips? It was a curious thing, and Minhyuk wanted time to ponder it, but then he noticed how Myungjun winced suddenly and brought his free hand up to press at one of his wounds.

They needed to get back to the boat, and quickly.

Minhyuk tugged him toward the surface, which they weren’t far from, and he exited the water with a gasp, gulping down fresh air for a brief second or two before pulling Myungjun to the boat. He could see all of his crew peering over at them. He could see Bin waving his arms wildly, as if Minhyuk was unaware of where they were. Bin was yelling something, too, but he was nowhere near close enough to read his lips.

Myungjun, even with all his pain, helped to pull him the rest of the way, and Minhyuk climbed up the boat to be instantly bombarded by his best friend. Bin snatched him away from the edge and held him close, burying his head into Minhyuk’s neck. Minhyuk could feel tears, maybe, and he tried to calm Bin down with some gentle  _ shh’s _ and a few pats to his back.

“I need to check on Myungjun,” he chastised, and he attempted to escape Bin’s grasp. “Bin, let me go. Myungjun’s hurt. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Bin did pull away slightly, but he had yet to release Minhyuk. “I thought the dragon would eat you,” he cried out, and then he bit down on his lip to keep from crying anymore. Minhyuk smiled at him, but his smile faltered when he noticed the kumiho standing just right behind Bin.

“It didn’t,” he muttered. Bin had risked his life to save that cursed creature. Bin had risked his life to save the thing that had kidnapped him. Minhyuk  _ wanted _ to yell and curse and kick the kumiho off the ship, but he couldn’t just yet. Myungjun was his top priority, not the fate of the kumiho.

He turned away from Bin and saw that Jinwoo had already helped pull Myungjun on board. The siren still clutched onto his spoils of war, the pretty scales sparkling in the sunlight, but he was definitely in pain. His breathing was labored and he grimaced with every movement, even as Jinwoo lay him down on the wooden planks to rest.

Minhyuk hurried toward him. He noticed how Myungjun’s face became brighter upon noticing him. He also noticed how pale Myungjun looked and he worried that he was losing too much blood.

If the way blood covered half his body was anything to go by, he definitely  _ was _ losing too much blood.

“Bin,” Minhyuk called out, reaching down to pick Myungjun up. “Help me, please. I—I need to fix his wounds. I can’t let him die.”

It was Sangil, however, who stepped up and helped Minhyuk to carry Myungjun. He said something, but he kept moving his head and Minhyuk could only read a few words that spilled from his mouth:  _ doctor _ and  _ before this _ were the prominent phrases.

“You said you used to be a doctor?” Minhyuk asked, hopeful he was correct. He almost cheered when Sangil nodded his head, and he gestured as best he could down to his cabin. “Let’s work down there. My bed’s the most comfortable one.”

However, before he could leave, Bin grabbed onto him. His face was splotchy with tears and his hair was dripping still, bangs stuck flat to his forehead. “Let Sangil take him down first,” Bin ordered.

Minhyuk shook his head. “No. I’m not going to leave him.”

“You risked your life for me, and you risked your life for him! You need to rest!”

“And  _ you _ need to throw that fucking kumiho off my damn ship,” Minhyuk snapped, and he glanced over at the kumiho, who lowered his gaze as soon as he felt Minhyuk’s eyes on him. “I have no idea why on earth you decided to try and save him.”

“He meant me no harm.”

“He  _ did! _ He meant you harm, Bin! And because of you, because you didn’t leave him with the jiaolong, Myungjun might fucking die, and it’s  _ your _ fault.” He tugged away from Bin then and started to walk, leaving Sangil to scramble after him.

He thought he would be happy once he had Bin safe in his arms, but all he felt was frustration. Bin  _ could _ have been safe, if they all left the kumiho where he was in the saliva. The jiaolong would have taken its time sucking out the kumiho’s blood, and then they could all make some sort of escape, or at least come up with a plan to kill the dragon from the ship. Instead, Bin risked their lives. Bin risked  _ Myungjun’s _ life mostly. Bin risked the life of the siren who had done nothing but save them time and time again.

Minhyuk grit his teeth down as he and Sangil lay Myungjun down onto the bed. He lit some lanterns, as well, in order to light up his small room a bit better, and Sangil faced him.

“Do you have any bandages?” the man asked. “Or any medication?”

“Yes. I can go get it.” It was difficult to leave Myungjun’s side, even if the first aid supplies were close by, but Minhyuk forced his feet to move. He rushed the entire time, fumbling around drawers and locked cabinets in order to find all the necessary supplies for Myungjun’s wounds, and he came back with arms full of items. 

Sangil smiled kindly at him as Minhyuk set it all down, and Myungjun looked curious. He tried to lift himself out of bed in order to better inspect the supplies, but Minhyuk pushed him back into the pillow, deciding he didn’t care that Myungjun had soaked his bed completely with the water that had been dripping off him.

“Stay,” he ordered. “We need to make sure you’ll be okay.”

He glanced at the wounds and tried not to look too closely. The claws had done a lot of damage to Myungjun’s otherwise-pristine body and the blood was everywhere. Skin was ripped and torn, and Minhyuk prayed that the cuts weren’t too deep.

Myungjun still held onto those scales, which Minhyuk took from his hands. He set them aside on his table, content to look at them later when Myungjun was all better.

Sangil began his examination, first by cleaning all the blood around the wounds. Minhyuk helped with that, gathering water in buckets and wringing out dirtied rags when the blood overwhelmed them. It took a long time, too long, and Myungjun kept closing his eyes shut and biting down on his lip.

“He’s in a lot of pain,” Sangil mentioned once the wounds were clean enough. He had been watching Minhyuk for a few seconds, gauging his worried expression, and asked, “You said he doesn’t talk, correct?”

“Right,” Minhyuk replied. He smoothed Myungjun’s hair back from his forehead, frowning when he saw how tightly squeezed Myungjun’s eyes were.

“But you two still communicate?”

Minhyuk nodded.

“Can you tell him this next part will hurt and that it’s okay?” 

“That’s…” Minhyuk furrowed his eyebrows in thought. He could think of no way to properly articulate what he needed to. He didn’t speak the siren’s language.

Someone else did, though.

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “The kumiho will talk to him. Go get the kumiho.” Minhyuk despised the kumiho and wanted it dead, but perhaps its services would be far more useful this way. Besides, Myungjun was the top priority now. If he had to deal with the kumiho for a little bit in order to help Myungjun heal, then so be it.

He saw Sangil leave, and then he turned his full attention back to Myungjun, who looked to him with a small smile, though pain was evident in his gaze. Minhyuk wondered if he had been wounded before in such a manner. Surely he had fought all sorts of sea creatures; he was such a good fighter. Maybe he had fought sirens, as well, though Minhyuk heard that sirens were always rather friendly with each other. They would have no reason to fight.

“There’s so much I want to ask you,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over Myungjun’s cheek. “A pity we cannot understand each other.”

But the kumiho could understand both of them. As much as Minhyuk hated to admit it, he might need the kumiho for longer than he thought. His true desire was to shove him back into the ocean and let him drown, but if he was able to be the bridge between Minhyuk and Myungjun, then he would be useful.

Sangil returned. He hurried to Minhyuk’s side again to check on Myungjun, then he gestured behind him. Minhyuk glanced over, frowning when he saw the kumiho and frowning even more when he saw Bin.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked Bin. 

Bin looked to be sighing. “Sangil isn’t comfortable enough with Dongmin. I decided to come and help.”

Minhyuk blinked. “Dongmin?”

The kumiho raised his hand up.

“You said your name was Eunwoo.”

“I said my  _ alias _ was Eunwoo, not my name. My name is Dongmin.”

“And you had to tell Bin this? Why?”

Dongmin chose not to answer. He moved forward, crowding the poor siren, who looked up at the newcomers with caution. Likely, he remembered that all of this was caused by Dongmin. Likely, he remembered the way Dongmin had tried to capture him, too, and he shifted slightly before grimacing.

“What did you want me to tell him?” Dongmin asked, making sure he looked straight at Minhyuk as he spoke. It was a courtesy that Minhyuk had neither expected nor desired from the kumiho, and he glared at it. This kumiho had nearly killed them all in his quest to steal Bin’s intelligence, and now he dared to act like a dedicated member of the crew?

Minhyuk longed to yell at Dongmin. He wanted to curse at him and to hit him and to kick him off the ship. But right now he knew Myungjun’s life was far more important, so he said, “Tell him that Sangil will continue to examine his wounds and clean them even more. It will hurt. Tell him to squeeze my hand if it hurts too much.”

At least Dongmin didn’t hesitate to translate. His mouth moved quickly, and Minhyuk wondered how the language sounded. He expected it to be pretty, for anything that came out of Myungjun’s own mouth was bound to be pretty.

Myungjun seemed to understand what Dongmin had told him. He glanced at Minhyuk in worry, but Minhyuk just offered him a smile that likely didn’t seem genuine at all. “I’m here,” Minhyuk promised him. “It will be alright.”

They didn’t need Dongmin’s translation for Myungjun to comprehend the meaning behind those words. He relaxed a little bit, though he remained tense and scared as Sangil began to properly examine the wounds and apply different types of creams and ointments in an attempt to bring down the scarring. Every so often, Bin would talk. Minhyuk could hear his hum in the background, somewhere just behind the others. Dongmin answered him often, his own hum deep and rich. In any other normal circumstance, Minhyuk would be curious and would read their lips to figure out what they were discussing. But now, he only had eyes for Myungjun.

Sangil decided that Myungjun’s wounds did not need stitches, and so he began to wrap his torso with bandages instead. Myungjun sat up for this process, wincing whenever Sangil pulled too tightly, still holding onto Minhyuk’s hands. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long.

Unfortunately, Sangil said to Minhyuk, “He can’t go back in the water, not with the bandages. They’ll fall off. All of the medicine I applied will be washed away, too.

Dongmin was quick to interject himself into the conversation. Minhyuk decided it was simply another reason he could hate Dongmin. “He’s a siren. He can’t be out of the water for longer than a couple of days. He’ll die.”

Minhyuk’s heart hammered heavily in his chest as he thought of all that could happen to poor Myungjun. His wounds might become worse if they dropped him back in the ocean, but if they kept him out then he could shrivel up and die like any other sea creature would.

“Maybe it will be healed before then,” Dongmin said, shrugging his shoulders as if he hadn’t just commented on Myungjun’s possible death sentence. “Sirens do heal faster than most other sea creatures.”

“You sure know a lot about sirens,” Minhyuk grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about the different steps they could take in order to ensure that Myungjun wouldn’t die either way.

Dongmin shrugged for a second time. “I told you, I’ve lived for a thousand years. You get to know stuff during that time.”

“And, yet, you were trying to kill Bin for his knowledge.”

That shut Dongmin up, at least, and Minhyuk sighed as he glanced back to Myungjun, who was laying back down on the bed and had his eyes shut. He seemed exhausted, and he had good reason to be. Minhyuk felt guilty for putting Myungjun through such an intense ordeal, but he also wanted to place some of the blame on Bin’s shoulders.

He looked over to his friend, who sheepishly met his gaze. “Let’s talk,” Minhyuk suggested. “You and the fucking kumiho.”

They both had much explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i left this sitting for a while but here we are finally

Sebin left in order to offer Minhyuk and the others a bit more privacy. They pulled up chairs and sat around the small table in Minhyuk’s quarters, where Myungjun was able to watch curiously from where he lay on Minhyuk’s bed.

“So,” Minhyuk began, gesturing over at the kumiho. “Why did you save his life?”

Bin sighed. “I told you, he saved my life. It only makes sense, then, that I return the favor.”

“He was the one who caused your life to be in danger in the first place. If not for him, we wouldn’t have sailed through waters that apparently hold jiaolongs. If not for him, we would have picked you up and turned around and continued our course.” 

Dongmin had the intelligence to at least look a little upset with his actions, though Minhyuk chose not to pay him too much mind for the moment. His real quarrel was with Bin, who had saved the kumiho and put Myungjun’s life in grave danger. 

“I’m not going to let him die just because he made a few ridiculous mistakes,” Bin defended.

“A few? Bin, he kidnapped you. He tied you to the mast of his ship. Not only that, but he tried to kidnap Myungjun, too. He had him wrapped in ropes and was dragging him across the shore, and it was only because we intercepted him that any of us are still alive today. If he had stuck Myungjun on that ship and tied him up with that rope, then Myungjun wouldn’t have been able to save us.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Bin crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to look Minhyuk in the eye.

Minhyuk really didn’t like what he was hearing. Bin had been the one to suggest that Minhyuk kill Myungjun the first few days of their relationship. Even after Myungjun had proven himself worthy of trust, Bin had still been a proponent of getting rid of him. Why, then, would he randomly risk his life for another supernatural creature, one that had already caused far more trouble than Myungjun ever had?

He didn’t want to keep hounding Bin, however. He had already complained enough, and it was clear that Bin wasn’t going to delve further into his reasonings behind his actions.

The kumiho would, though.

Minhyuk had the kumiho in a tight spot. It was obvious the kumiho was outnumbered and overpowered. All it would take would be a couple of threatening words, perhaps a few of his men with their knives, and the kumiho would be forced to spill.

Minhyuk decided to go the more gentle route and ask without weapons, “Why did you kidnap Bin?”

Dongmin looked at Minhyuk when he spoke. He seemed aware of Minhyuk’s disability and he was doing his best to ensure that Minhyuk could understand him. It was annoying. The kumiho should hate Minhyuk. It should dig its heels in place and pout and not say a single word to him. And, yet, Dongmin answered the question without a second’s hesitation.

“Kumihos steal the knowledge and soul of people. I was going to do that to Bin.”

His admittance of such heinous crimes only fueled Minhyuk’s anger. He squeezed his fists closed and asked, “Then why did you rescue him? And why did he rescue you?”

“I told you when we first met, he’s attractive.”

Minhyuk scoffed. “You didn’t rescue him just because he’s attractive, though.”

He noticed Bin shifting around in his chair. Minhyuk shot him a harsh glare, to which Bin responded with a nervous smile and what looked like a quick bout of laughter. “Minhyuk, calm down. We talked on the boat, when he had me held captive. He’s not that bad, honestly. He’s kind and he had already made up his mind that he wouldn’t hurt me.”

Dongmin looked at Bin with something akin to adoration. Minhyuk tried his best to ignore it, for he found it ridiculous that Dongmin would fall in love with Bin after only a day or two. No, that wasn’t likely. Dongmin was tricking him again. He was a kumiho; it was in his nature to trick people. 

“Why didn’t you give him back, then?” Minhyuk asked, his question directed at Dongmin. “Why did you lead us all on this stupid chase that almost got everyone killed? Had it not been for Myungjun, we would’ve died.”

Myungjun was curled up on the bed. He occasionally picked his head up, especially if he heard his name, but he otherwise remained motionless. 

“I was still debating what to do with Bin,” Dongmin responded. “I thought that perhaps I could still take his knowledge, for he’s very intelligent, and I’d be a little sad over a pretty man becoming ruined but I knew I’d get over it. But then he kept talking while tied to the mast and he told me about you and your siren. He also asked about myself. It was...it was nice, honestly, to hear someone ask questions about  _ me _ .”

Bin laughed again, hiding his mouth between his hands as he spoke. His words seemed to cause Dongmin much delight, for the kumiho’s face lit up.

Minhyuk glowered and snapped, “Repeat yourself, Bin.”

“I said that I was simply asking questions to prolong my life. I knew I would die; or, I thought I would, anyway. I figured that if I kept up a conversation, then he wouldn’t kill me too soon.” He smiled at the kumiho, who returned it sweetly. “I’m glad I was correct.”

“You’re...why the fuck are you acting so calm about this?” Minhyuk asked, appalled the question even had to come from his mouth. He would expect Bin to hate the kumiho. After all, hadn’t Bin hated Myungjun for a lot less? Myungjun had never kidnapped them and threatened death. Myungjun had never caused such destruction and had never risked their lives. Bin hated Myungjun, yet he liked the kumiho? 

Before Bin could answer, Minhyuk snapped, “He charmed you, didn’t he?”

“My powers aren’t that great,” Dongmin assured him.

Minhyuk refused to listen to such an excuse, however. He refused to believe a crafty kumiho. “You’re a strange, supernatural being, just like Myungjun. He has powers; he can charm people. You must be able to, as well.”

“Sirens can charm people, yes,” Dongmin agreed, nodding his head. “But kumihos cannot.” He smirked suddenly and leaned into the table, his eyes bright with mischief. “Did the siren charm you, then?”

It was clear that Dongmin understood sirens better than any of them. Dongmin could speak Myungjun’s language, so surely he must know how Myungjun could charm people.

Which meant he would soon know Myungjun had been kissing him.

Minhyuk refused to back down, despite having aired such a secret. He sat straight and tall and answered, “We’re not talking about Myungjun; we’re talking about you.”

“And I’ve said I can’t charm people, but you know what charming is. Myungjun charmed you, didn’t he?”

“Sirens can charm people?” Bin asked. His previous flippant attitude was gone and replaced instead with panic. “What does that entail? Is Minhyuk under some sort of spell? Is that siren controlling him?”

“ _ That siren _ is controlling me as much as  _ that kumiho _ is controlling you,” Minhyuk spat, standing up from the table in order to properly display his might and his power. He wouldn’t be talked down to, not as captain of his own ship, and especially not by a kumiho.

“Sirens often charm sailors,” Dongmin explained, not seeming to care much for Minhyuk’s attitude. “Their singing is one way to do it, but the other way is through sexual behavior.”

Bin looked horrified, and Minhyuk sought to ease the situation. “Myungjun and I have  _ not _ engaged in  _ sexual behavior _ ! All he did was kiss me as a way to explain what  _ you _ were going to do to Bin.” He sat back in his seat with a huff; standing had done nothing for him, so he might as well sit. He was exhausted, anyway, and still sopping wet. He didn’t want to keep exerting himself more than he had to.

“Then he didn’t  _ fully _ charm you,” Dongmin said. “But he could’ve partially charmed you, anyway. Many sirens are unable to stop from charming. It’s something they cannot control, for they do it often enough to the sailors they attempt to drown. It’s easier to eat a calm, subdued man than it is to eat one thrashing about.”

Even the explanation didn’t help Bin’s expression. He still looked terrified. “So sirens will have sex with the men they drag down? Is that right?”

“No, not necessarily. I mean, I’ve never heard of that happening before. It’s mostly kissing, as what happened to Minhyuk, but that, coupled with their singing, is enough to fully charm sailors. And since that siren is apparently mute, then Minhyuk was only partially charmed.” 

“I wasn’t charmed,” Minhyuk tried to defend himself, but Dongmin didn’t seem to care for the half-hearted argument. He simply shrugged his shoulders and continued with his explanation about sirens.

“I haven’t heard of sirens kissing humans outside of water, though. Kissing is only used for two things; charming sailors for food, or keeping sailors alive for longer.”

“Why would they want to keep sailors alive?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk felt they had strayed far from his original topic, and he felt antsy hearing them discuss poor Myungjun as if he was nothing but some sort of evil, horrible creature.

“Sirens find it fun to eat humans alive. They enjoy inflicting torture onto others.”

Minhyuk glanced over to Myungjun, curled up in Minhyuk’s bed with his eyes closed and cheeks squashed against a limp pillow. He looked adorable and sweet. He looked completely incapable of killing anyone. He especially looked incapable of causing deliberate torture onto a living creature.

“How do you know all of this?” Minhyuk asked, facing Dongmin again. “Myungjun’s never tried to hurt any of us. From the first day we met, he’s only displayed curiosity and intrigue, not a desire to kill.”

Dongmin bit down on his lip and nodded his head. “Your siren is an odd specimen,” the kumiho agreed. “I’ve never met one quite like him.”

“Do you often meet sirens? I find it strange that you’re sitting here trying to tell us everything about sirens when I’m not even sure if we can trust you.” Minhyuk glared at the kumiho, wondering how on earth he knew so much. It was clear that some of his words were trustworthy; he could speak in a language only Myungjun understood, so perhaps he wasn’t a complete liar. Still, Minhyuk found himself growing skeptical of Dongmin the more he spoke. He paid close attention to Dongmin’s lips, trying to pay attention while also remaining cautious of Dongmin’s words.

“I’ve met many sirens. Supernatural creatures are often drawn to each other. Sirens found me interesting when they learned I could not fall prey to their charms. I’ve learned their language over the years, and I’ve seen their way of life. It’s up to you whether or not you can trust me, but I promise that I’m telling the truth.”

Minhyuk clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to trust the kumiho, not after everything he had done. He had nearly ruined them all just for selfish gain.

“Prove it,” he snapped.

Dongmin blinked. “Prove…?”

“Prove that we can trust you when it comes to information about the sirens.”

Dongmin looked a little lost, but his gaze soon fell on Myungjun, who remained still as he slept. The kumiho said something, something Minhyuk couldn’t make out, and Myungjun’s eyes blinked open.

When the kumiho spoke again, in whatever weird language he was using, Myungjun shook his head. It was a response to some sort of question, it appeared, and when Dongmin said something else, Myungjun shook his head again, though much more frantically this time.

Dongmin turned back to Minhyuk with a small smile. “He says you aren’t charmed, and if he charmed you briefly then he didn’t mean to.”

Minhyuk wasn’t sure how to respond. Myungjun was staring at him now in concern, as if worried he had somehow caused some sort of misunderstanding. He hesitated for a few seconds before grumbling, “I know he didn’t charm me.”

“Well, he might have briefly charmed you. Sirens can be sensual creatures without meaning to be. I mean, even the way they breathe life into other beings is sensual, isn’t it?”

“How else should he give me breath?” Minhyuk asked, coming off as a little more whiny than he meant to. He didn’t Dongmin mocking Myungjun, or else attributing lewd personality traits to him. Minhyuk felt that  _ he _ knew Myungjun best, and he didn’t want to hear otherwise.

“Some beings can simply flick their wrists and give you breath. Sirens are one of the very few who have that sort of power yet need to be in close contact in order to use it.” 

Bin raised his eyebrows, as if thinking through everything that Dongmin had said. “Minhyuk, he’s useful, isn’t he? Dongmin does know much about sirens. You should keep him on board, if only for that.”

“You can’t tell me—” Minhyuk started, but Bin was already talking over Minhyuk, his next question directed to Dongmin.

“—anatomy the same as a humans?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he awaited an answer to whatever stupid question he had asked.

Minhyuk could only glare at the two of them and pout as Dongmin answered, “It’s relatively similar. I guess it’s a mix between fish anatomy and human anatomy, which makes sense considering how sirens look. Sirens have a small section in their front, a little dip in their fin that’s hardly noticeable. When they’re ready to mate, male sirens produce a penis from that area and female—”

“It’s in bad taste to discuss the sexual life of someone who’s in the room with us,” Minhyuk blurted out, feeling his cheeks warm up from such a conversation. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear about the way sirens reproduced.

Bin rolled his eyes. “It can’t understand us,” he pointed out.

“Shut up, Bin, and stop calling Myungjun an  _ it _ . I think it’s even worse if he can’t understand us, because then he can’t stop us if he’s uncomfortable with this sort of talk.”

“I can ask him,” Dongmin exclaimed, seeming to enjoy the arguments. Minhyuk tried stammering out a quick,  _ don’t fucking dare _ , but he was too late. Dongmin had already turned to Myungjun and was delivering his question in that weird language again.

Myungjun furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and nodded his head.

“There,” Dongmin said, turning back to Bin and Minhyuk. “He doesn’t care.”

“I doubt you even asked—”

“Anyway, they have sex similar to how humans have sex, with the male body parts and the female body parts, but there’s many more female sirens than there are male sirens, so they gather once a year at whatever place they deem to be their mating grounds, and they—” Dongmin made a motion with his hands and finished by saying, “—they all fuck together.”

Bin looked enthralled. “ _ Together? _ ”

“Sirens don’t seem to care much for monogamy or family units. They also don’t care about promoting one sexuality over the other. They have pure, animalistic behaviors that would be otherwise unbecoming of a human being.” He smirked again, that same, dumb smirk, and looked toward Bin. “Most of us supernatural beings don’t seem to have a preference in sexuality.”

The smile Bin gave him back was disgusting. Minhyuk broke in before he could feel even more uncomfortable with the situation. “Myungjun isn’t like that.”

Dongmin raised his eyebrows. “Like what?”

“Animalistic. He’s more human-like, don’t you think?”

“Well, yes, but he’s still a siren. It’s pure and simple biology.” Dongmin appeared thoughtful suddenly and added, “Though, it is strange that he’s sticking to your side so much. Sirens don’t do that, not even with each other. They’re much more independent creatures.”

Bin shook Dongmin’s shoulder. “Ask him.”

“Ask him why he’s sticking with Minhyuk?”

“Yes!” Bin nodded excitedly. “Then we can finally get some answers and figure out his true intentions.”

Minhyuk wasn’t certain of Myungjun’s  _ true intentions _ , but he knew they were nothing bad. Myungjun had never caused him any harm, nor had Myungjun ever  _ wanted _ to cause him any harm. He was kind and sweet all the time, and Minhyuk knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Myungjun liked him. Myungjun liked being near him and sitting by his side and hanging onto his arm. Myungjun liked learning new things and being given a name and being treated like any other human being.

So he felt no fear or concern when Dongmin turned back to Myungjun and began speaking in the strange, alien language.

Myungjun couldn’t respond back, so it seemed Dongmin switched to yes-or-no questions after a brief struggle. Only then did Myungjun nod or shake his head in answer to everything Dongmin asked him. Bin watched, interested in the proceedings, and Minhyuk held his breath as Dongmin uncovered the truth behind Myungjun’s lack of ‘animalistic’ behaviors.

“He likes you,” Dongmin said, confirming Minhyuk’s beliefs. “You didn’t kill him, so he was curious. When you were drowning, as Bin told me had happened, and he rescued you, he did so because he felt compelled to. He has no explanation for why he saved your life; he just wanted to.”

Before Dongmin could say anything else, Myungjun reached out and tugged on the kumiho’s sleeve. He winced, likely having stretched out too far and jostled his wounds, but he still acted out a quick scenario, pointing to his nose and then to his lips before nodding his head.

Minhyuk felt his face turn red for a second time today. He knew what Myungjun was referring to. He had been around the siren long enough to pick up on hand movements, and he knew what this meant.

Unfortunately, Dongmin figured it out, too, and said something to Myungjun before grinning at Minhyuk.

“He really likes it when you kiss his nose. He wants you to kiss him more.”

Minhyuk buried his face into his hands. Bin said something, as evident by the hum in the air, but Minhyuk only groaned and refused to look up. The entire crew already knew, but he hadn’t wanted  _ Bin _ to know! He wanted to keep it a secret from one person, at least, and now Myungjun had gone and told the last person who needed to be aware of such a thing.

Bin shook on his shoulder, obviously vying for attention, and Minhyuk decided to glance up at him, though he dreaded what he might read on Bin’s lips.

“You kissed him?” Bin asked. It was likely what he had been asking for the past few seconds and Minhyuk felt humiliation wash over him like a tidal wave. He looked over to Myungjun, to sweet, innocent Myungjun, who still smiled at him.

“I did,” Minhyuk mumbled, because it would be stupid not to admit it. “I just...I felt compelled to. I’m not sure why. I wanted to kiss him, and so I did. I kissed him. I enjoyed it, and apparently he did, too.”

Dongmin looked amused, though far less so than Minhyuk had expected for him to be. “Sirens don’t often kiss for anything other than survival and charming,” he mentioned. “When this siren kisses you underwater, it’s out of a desire to keep you alive. The fact that you kissed him and he  _ liked _ it really speaks volumes. He’s a different siren. I’ve not ever seen one enjoy kisses before. He hasn’t returned any of your kisses, has he?”

Minhyuk thought of the kiss they shared underwater, the brief moment where Myungjun kissed him on the lips with no powers. It had been very simple, and yet it spoke volumes to Minhyuk, especially now that he learned of the way sirens truly acted.

“He kissed me back,” Minhyuk confirmed, his gaze slowly drifting over to Myungjun as he spoke. Myungjun had already laid back down again, shifting a little in the bed in order to get more comfortable. He seemed confused with the sheets and picked at them with distaste. “Back in the sea, after we killed the jiaolong. I kissed his cheek and he kissed my lips. It wasn’t a kiss for breath.”

Minhyuk had quite liked that kiss, too. It was different from Bin’s hungry kisses. It was a sweet, chaste kiss, a kiss that showed both affection and relief. It revealed words left unspoken and unsaid. It was the purest form of communication Minhyuk had ever experienced, and he found himself wondering if Myungjun would ever kiss him again. 

He hoped so. He truly hoped so.

Dongmin said something, and Minhyuk snapped his attention back to the kumiho. “Repeat yourself,” he ordered.

“Have you ever kissed anyone else in a similar manner? Have you shown romantic feelings to someone that Myungjun might have witnessed? He could be mirroring your behavior, if that’s the case.”

Minhyuk glanced toward Bin, who kept his eyes averted. He would never mention their late-night escapades, for he knew they meant nothing and he also knew Myungjun had never seen anything take place, but he wished Bin would speak up about it. He wished Bin would proudly own up to their actions instead of cowering away.

Minhyuk wanted to take revenge on Bin and his stupidity from before. Bin had put their lives in danger in order to save some kumiho, and so he couldn’t really complain if Minhyuk were to delve into the lewd details of their relationship. He  _ wanted _ to watch Bin squirm, to see his reaction when he realized his actions had consequences. 

But how could he do that to someone he loved dearly? How could he ruin his best friend’s reputation in order to enact some dumb revenge? Guilt ate at him, and he looked away, ashamed he had even considered doing something so awful and petty.

“Once,” he started, and Bin looked at him with anxiety brewing in his eyes. Minhyuk swallowed thickly, “when pirates tried to kill me and Myungjun saved me, he brought me back to the ship where Bin kissed me out of relief. I...I suppose the siren might have copied that.”

Bin seemed to sigh, possibly satisfied with Minhyuk’s answer. Minhyuk tried his best to ignore his best friend. It hurt him to know that Bin was so ashamed of their secret that he would rather Minhyuk lie. It hurt him to know that he would never have his feelings recuperated. It hurt him to know that Bin didn’t love him.

But he couldn’t focus on his pain. Right now, he wanted to know more about Myungjun, and it seemed Dongmin was the key to that. 

“It’s possible that Myungjun kissed you in a similar manner Bin had kissed you,” Dongmin agreed. “There’s also something else strange about the siren, too.” The kumiho gestured to the jiaolong scales, the ones Myungjun had ripped from the dragon’s body and had carried with him despite his wounds. “I’ve never seen a siren take any sort of spoils from a dead body before. They don’t do it to humans and they don’t do it to other sea creatures. Do you know why this one took the time to gather scales?”

Minhyuk hadn’t paid the scales much attention, but now that Dongmin brought it up, he narrowed his eyes in thought. “I was under the assumption it  _ was _ for spoils of war,” he mumbled. “I can’t think of any other—”

He stopped. His mind felt jumbled, a little shaken from all of the day’s events, but then he remembered the book Myungjun had seemed taken with.

_ Scale from a jiaolong. _

The book had pictures of the creatures, drawings and sketches of what exactly one would need in order to turn a siren into a human. The jiaolong was on there; the scales were displayed in such accurate detail. Had Myungjun remembered that as he fought the dragon?

He wanted to become human. He  _ really _ wanted to become human.

Minhyuk made the decision, right then and there, to help Myungjun however he possibly could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i suck at ending these chapters
> 
> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.
> 
> also, if you haven't heard, i've put together a fun ficfest for astro fanfic authors! it's very simple: you choose a prompt from the list i have and write a fanfic using that prompt! it's a good way to get the creative juices flowing, and to see what types of fics aroha want to read! click [HERE](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1GTiN4uPVzwNxA8P0opLQhsiW4k3LcJIhfkHOezG_Ahg/edit?usp=sharing) to access the prompt list! i hope you guys can join!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it feels like it's been ages since i updated. enjoy this offering!

Night was falling fast. As the sun settled along the horizon, casting its blinding rays over the crew, Minhyuk realized just how tired he actually was. He had to stifle his yawns, and he almost fell over several times with exhaustion.

Bin stood by his side all the while. Minhyuk couldn’t help but comment, “Why don’t you go see Dongmin? It’s clear you enjoy his company most of all.”

Dongmin was being kept in one of the rooms under the deck typically used for wine storage. It was cool and musty, a perfect place to keep both wine and unruly kumihos. Bin had slightly protested at first but was stopped by a well-placed glare Minhyuk had shot in his direction. Dongmin, for his part, had not complained at all. In fact, he seemed to understand his predicament, and he had only nodded when Minhyuk informed him of where he would be staying. Suhyun remained on guard, a loaded gun in his hands should Dongmin become a bit of a hassle.

It was obvious that Bin liked Dongmin. Minhyuk wasn’t aware what the extent of Bin’s feelings were, but it made him sick to think about. It also made him sick to look at Bin with such knowledge, and so he kept his eyes downcast, even after he asked that question.

Bin poked him a couple of times, finally a bit relentless when Minhyuk had refused to look up. It was annoying, and so finally Minhyuk snapped, “What?” and glanced over to his friend.

Bin rolled his eyes with exasperation. “I said that I don’t want to be with him. I want to be with you.”

What Minhyuk wouldn’t give to actually hear those words. What he wouldn’t give to gain his hearing back for just two seconds and to hear such a passionate phrase spoken with undertones of romance and adoration.  _ I want to be with you _ .

But all it was for now was a physical expression. It had no hidden meaning. Bin wanted to stand around with him. That was all.

He tried his best to hide the disappointment bubbling up within him. It wouldn’t look well for him to pout just because his second mate had gone and fallen in love with some strange supernatural creature after only one day of knowing him and being captured by him. He could be angry, but he couldn’t be jealous.

“Well, I want to go to sleep soon, anyway.” He glanced around at his crew, most of whom seemed just as tired. They had put themselves in such danger in order to find Bin, and they had gone through a sleepless night in an attempt to get closer and closer to that damn island. Minhyuk knew he couldn’t sleep when Jinwoo was yawning widely at the helm and Sanha was nodding off where he sat.

Bin gave his back a small pat. Minhyuk looked back to him and asked, “What are you doing?”

“You’re worrying about the crew, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“They’re fine. If you’d like, I can instruct Jongwoon to take over for Jinwoo, so he can get some sleep. Sanha mentioned to me that Jinwoo hasn’t been sleeping at all since you guys came to rescue me.” He had the decency to look a little guilty, at least. Minhyuk hoped that guilt was eating him alive, especially if it concerned poor Myungjun, who had taken all the hits for them.

“I shouldn’t sleep while they’re still tired.”

“I can stay awake,” Bin assured him. “I’m certain that several of them are upset with me, anyway, for keeping Dongmin alive. They’ll accept it if I excuse them for the night.”

It was a good idea, and it was also as close to a punishment as Minhyuk decided Bin would ever get. He screwed up his nose, thinking it over for a couple of seconds before he nodded his head.

“Right,” he murmured. “But...Bin.”

“Hm?”

“I…” He swallowed thickly. What did he want to say? He had already voiced his displeasure. What more was there to discuss, then? He knew better than to confess his feelings, but how was he to explain himself if he couldn’t verbalize his own emotions?

He stared stupidly at Bin. Bin waited for him to say something.

“I thought I lost you,” Minhyuk finally blurted out. “It hurt.”

Bin’s face fell. He nodded his head; clearly he had thought this through a lot, too. “Yes,” he said, mumbled enough that Minhyuk could hardly read his lips.

Perhaps it should be left at that. Perhaps Minhyuk should leave while he was still in control of himself. However, now that he had gotten past that first hurdle of speaking his mind, he decided that he had more to say.

“It wasn’t your fault. Not at first. It was fine at first. But...you acted like nothing was wrong. Like it was fine you had been kidnapped by a kumiho. Like it was fine you had risked Myungjun’s life. You acted exasperated that I even  _ cared _ so much. Who the fuck does that, Bin? I feel like I should be worth more to you than...than that.”

He spared a glance at Bin, who looked about ready to say something. Minhyuk didn’t let him have that chance. “And why the hell are you allowed to treat Myungjun like dirt? You seem to like that kumiho. You act like he’s a god. And Myungjun? You wanted to kill him. You didn’t seem to mind that he was fighting the battle for us. You didn’t care that he was bleeding profusely in order to save your sorry ass.”

Bin’s jaw now was tight. He kept his eyes lowered and Minhyuk continued to stare. “Now you won’t defend yourself?” he asked.

At least Bin still spoke coherently so Minhyuk could read his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“You ought to be.”

“I am. Truly. There’s just...there’s something about Dongmin I’m drawn to.”

“The bastard’s charmed you.”

“No more than the siren has charmed you.”

Minhyuk grit his teeth down and straightened up. “You’re a fucking idiot, Bin,” he snapped before storming off to his cabin, leaving his friend behind to suffer through the night. He could feel the anger rolling off of him in waves, and it took all the effort he had not to slam open the door. He didn’t want to scare Myungjun, who was still sleeping away the injuries he had sustained.

Truth be told, there wasn’t much reason to remain angry with Bin. It wasn’t Bin’s fault he had been captured, and it wasn’t Bin’s fault he had decided to save his captor. Bin was a good person, and he proved that by risking his life for Dongmin’s sake.

Then again, he had also risked  _ Myungjun’s _ life for Dongmin’s sake. 

But could Minhyuk blame him for that? It was clear he didn’t like Myungjun. Bin had always hated sirens, and to have one suddenly thrust in his life was surely a hassle. He seemed to view Myungjun as a creature, as no more important than a stray dog or a fish swimming in the sea. To Bin, Myungjun wasn’t  _ human _ .

Minhyuk wondered why. Myungjun seemed human enough. Was it because he was dumb? Minhyuk had met many before who always equated his deafness to sub-human intelligence. Was Bin doing the same thing? Was Bin making assumptions of Myungjun’s intelligence based on how well he could speak? 

Minhyuk hoped that Bin was above such a thing, but he knew better than to presume.

He lit a lantern in his room, casting a dim light over the area, then looked to his bed. Myungjun remained asleep, chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took, clawed fingers clutched around the blanket Minhyuk had draped over his form.

He looked precious. He looked adorable. Minhyuk couldn’t help but smile.

As he changed out of his sea-faring clothes, he continued to glance toward Myungjun, noticing how his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and how he wrinkled his nose when he shifted. With the blanket now covering his large, orange fin, he seemed much more human. As long as Minhyuk could ignore the scales and gills and claws, they really didn’t seem that much different.

Minhyuk tossed a linen shirt on and pulled up a different pair of pants,  _ clean _ pants, depositing his other clothes to the floor so he could give them a good wash later. He then shuffled toward the bed and gazed down at Myungjun for a few seconds before poking his cheek.

“Myungjun,” he whispered.

Myungjun moved away from his prodding finger and Minhyuk giggled.

“Myungjun,” he repeated, poking Myungjun again.

This time, Myungjun opened his eyes. It seemed to take him a few seconds to examine his surroundings, but once he realized where he was, he relaxed. He looked toward Minhyuk and offered him a small smile.

Minhyuk returned the smile readily.

“Are your wounds doing alright?” Minhyuk asked. He pulled the covers back slightly. The gauze was still white, which meant, at least, that Myungjun wasn’t bleeding anymore. 

Myungjun started to push himself into a sitting position, but Minhyuk was quick to stop him. “No need to move on my account,” he fussed, shaking his head. “Just stay where you are, alright?”

He was tired, but Myungjun had taken over his bed. He briefly considered falling asleep at his desk, or else going to the shared sleeping quarters with the other men, but he didn’t want to have a crick in his neck and he didn’t want to face Bin. 

Could he sleep next to Myungjun, though?

He was the one who had done his best to convince Bin that Myungjun was  _ basically _ human, that there was nothing wrong with him or his fish-like looks, that they should accept him onboard as one of their own. Yet, faced with the prospect of overlooking the tail and claws and gills, Minhyuk found it suddenly difficult to think of Myungjun as anything other than a siren.

A sweet, kind siren.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing Myungjun, and sighed heavily. 

“Bin,” he muttered to the siren, “is a fucking idiot.”

He buried his head into his hands and groaned. “I’m also a fucking idiot.”

He had unleashed his anger onto Bin. He had tossed aside all of the cool composure he thought he was in control of and let his feelings spill forth. If he wasn’t careful, next time he might accidentally reveal the secret of his love. Could Bin handle that? Could Bin take that in stride, as he had everything else?

It wouldn’t matter, anyway. Bin liked the kumiho. Bin, a staunch believer in all things logical, a man who despised fantastical creatures, had fallen in love with a  _ kumiho _ . And what a stupid love it was! The kumiho had captured him and had intended to kill him. How could Bin love something that treated him so terribly? 

Myungjun tugged on his shirt. Minhyuk craned his neck to look down at the siren and smiled when he saw such innocent concern shining in Myungjun’s gaze.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll be alright.”

_ Bin _ , the siren mouthed, and he pointed up at the low ceiling.

“Yeah. Bin’s up there.”

Myungjun studied Minhyuk for a few seconds before he blinked and sat up. He was too fast for Minhyuk to properly stop him this time, and he only winced a bit in pain before he repeated Bin’s name.

“Yes, Bin. Yes. Lay down, Myungjun. I don’t want you hurt.” Minhyuk tried to push Myungjun back down again, but Myungjun remained steady where he was. He poked a crease on Minhyuk’s forehead, lines caused by his frowns, and then asked again:  _ Bin? _

Minhyuk struggled to understand what Myungjun was saying.

“Bin…?” 

_ Bin _ , Myungjun mouthed. He smoothed that forehead crease down and his finger trailed to Minhyuk’s mouth. He outlined the scowl that had rested on Minhyuk’s lips and nodded his head resolutely.  _ Bin _ .

Oh. It made sense now. Minhyuk eased up his expression, laughing lightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “Bin has made me mad, yes,” he agreed. “He’s the reason I am frowning.”

His smile made Myungjun smile. The siren pointed to himself.  _ Myungjun? _ he mouthed, excited to be communicating with Minhyuk once more.

Minhyuk nodded his head. “And Myungjun has made me happy. Yes, you make me happy, Myungjun.”

He wondered when such roles had switched. When had Bin ceased to bring such a bright smile to his face? When had a feared sea creature made him feel light and cheerful? When did any of this happen?

He felt such a switch had taken place before they met Dongmin. Bin was confrontational, angry that Myungjun was allowed on the ship. He started petty fights for no reason. And Myungjun was always sweet, always willing to help and willing to learn. 

Minhyuk was drawn toward such innocence just as much as he was drawn toward Bin’s chaos.

Somehow, in this case, innocence had won him over.

“Lay down,” Minhyuk ordered, intent on not thinking of him and Bin any longer. He gently pushed Myungjun back to the bed and then flopped over beside him. It was a tight fit, but he and Bin had always made do. This would be fine.

He turned his head to look at the siren. The dim light glinted off his scales scattered about on his arms, and Minhyuk took the time to trace them out with his fingers, just as Myungjun had done with his smile. There were small fins, too, that Minhyuk mapped out, and he found himself absolutely fascinated with the makeup of Myungjun’s body.

“You basically are human,” he mumbled, letting his fingers travel up to Myungjun’s neck where more scales were gathered. “You’re human, yet you have  _ these _ …” It was interesting and unique. Briefly, Minhyuk wondered if he was the only person who had ever managed to get so close to a living, breathing siren.

He looked up from his fingers. Myungjun was staring at him, a naive look shining in his piercing, orange eyes. Minhyuk swallowed thickly and withdrew his fingers. Myungjun must not know what to think about such behavior. He was like a human, definitely, but his kind were  _ sirens _ . He surely had never done something so intimate before. And Minhyuk’s touches — those were all intimate, weren’t they?

“I apologize,” Minhyuk muttered. He took a deep breath. Myungjun didn’t stop staring at him.

Suddenly feeling a bit nervous, Minhyuk turned over, his back flush against Myungjun’s chest. He cleared his throat and buried his face into the pillow.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Why did he feel so nervous and embarrassed? It was  _ Myungjun _ . Myungjun wouldn’t think any differently of him, would he? Myungjun would accept it, even if it made him curious. Myungjun always accepted Minhyuk’s touches without any complaints.

Myungjun was precious.

Minhyuk’s heart hammered in his chest and he tried to push that thought aside.

_ Myungjun was precious to him _ .

Myungjun was no longer  _ his siren _ . Myungjun was now  _ his siren, the most precious siren in existence _ .

It was troublesome, and Minhyuk decided he wouldn’t think of anything more troublesome. Not now, not when he was already overwhelmed as it was.

Yet, as he drifted to sleep, he couldn’t help but think that the feeling of being so close to Myungjun’s warm body, close enough to feel his curled tail and his clawed hands, was somehow weirdly comforting.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

He awoke to Bin standing over him, a displeased expression written across his face. With such a scowl, Minhyuk was shocked that nothing yet had been said. He yawned and stretched out in bed before asking, “What?”

Bin waited until Minhyuk’s eyes were on him again to respond. “If any of the crew had seen you like this, there would have been much explaining to do.”

Minhyuk blinked, confused for a few seconds, before the siren next to him shifted. “Ah.” Minhyuk understood. He sat up in bed and glanced over to Myungjun, who was trying his best to move upright. “Nothing happened. He was in my bed, and I wanted to sleep. That’s all.”

“Well, of course  _ I’d _ believe that. But do you really think the others will?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk scoffed as he stood from the bed. “I feel like they would trust me far easier than they would trust you. Besides, everyone trusts Myungjun at this point.”

Bin said nothing in response, for it was true. Myungjun was more trustworthy than either of them. Myungjun remained neutral in terms of their plans or courses of action. Myungjun didn’t argue or complain. Myungjun stayed silent and rescued them if need be. Of course Myungjun was trustworthy compared to the others.

As Minhyuk grabbed his coat, he spared another glance toward his quartermaster. “What is your reasoning for waking me up, Bin?”

Bin grit his teeth down, pointedly avoiding Myungjun’s gaze. “We’ve reached land.”

“Any land we know of?”

“No. We’re definitely still lost. This is another island not on our maps.”

Minhyuk sighed. “I could’ve sworn we were going in the correct direction. Maybe it’s time to change course again.”

“Right now?”

“No, no, let’s check out the island first. If we can find friendly inhabitants, we might be able to get our bearings back. Besides, Myungjun needs to soak in the sea for a little bit so he doesn’t dry out.”

Bin pursed his lips, then blurted out, “He’s a fucking fish.”

“And Dongmin is a fucking fox. Be on your way, then.”

Bin rolled his eyes before storming back upstairs. Though Minhyuk could not hear, he could still feel the vibrations from Bin’s angry footsteps. “What a child,” he muttered to himself, and then he turned to face Myungjun. He needed to redress Myungjun’s wounds and make sure they hadn’t gotten worse overnight. “Hold still for me,” he ordered, words gentle as they spilled from his mouth, and he began unwrapping the bandage from Myungjun’s chest.

The cuts were still rather red, and Minhyuk winced as he examined them. No signs of infection, but he still grew nervous that being in the salt water would inflame them. He rubbed a cream over, trying his best to slow the swelling, and asked, “Does it hurt?”

Myungjun, of course, couldn’t understand. The siren only gazed at him, and so Minhyuk tried his best to act out his question. Perhaps it was the pointing and wincing that finally got through, for Myungjun suddenly shook his head and smiled widely.

“That’s...that’s good, at least,” Minhyuk muttered. He put the cream away and straightened up. “We’ll let you soak once we reach the shore. I want you to stay in my sight, though.”

Myungjun patted his chest, claws brushing up against the wounds. Minhyuk was quick to grab his hands and shake his head. “Don’t touch.”

Myungjun blinked at him, an inquisition, and Minhyuk repeated himself: “Do not touch the wounds.”

_ Don’t touch _ , mouthed Myungjun, and he nodded as if he comprehended such an order. He let his hands drop, the bright, sunny smile back on his face.  _ Don’t touch. _

Myungjun was incredibly smart, and Minhyuk laughed a little bit as he hooked his arms underneath Myungjun’s body. “Just to think,” he murmured as Myungjun rested his head against Minhyuk’s chest, “that the first siren friendly to humans is as adorable and intelligent as you. I’ve definitely struck gold, haven’t I?”

He knew Myungjun couldn’t understand, once again, but the siren did grasp onto his clothes and nuzzle against his chest, a sure sign of affection. Minhyuk could hardly help himself from kissing the top of Myungjun’s ruffled, orange hair.

“You’re too cute,” he whispered, then sighed. “Let’s go face Bin and the others, hm?”

He took Myungjun up to the main deck where his men were readying the ship to dock. Bin stood nearby, stifling a yawn when he caught Minhyuk’s eye.

“Tired?” Minhyuk grunted, shifting Myungjun’s weight in his arms.

Bin held his hands out. “Hand him over. I’m stronger. I can carry him.”

Minhyuk wanted to, and  _ tried _ to, but then Myungjun wrapped his arms around Minhyuk’s neck. Scales brushed against Minhyuk’s skin, and the siren tightened his grip, tense as Minhyuk poised to pass him to Bin.

“He doesn’t want to,” Minhyuk muttered, stepping back again.

Bin eyed Myungjun suspiciously but, thankfully, said nothing of the matter. “We’ll be sending a ship out with several of our men. The two of us, obviously, will board. Sanha and Jinwoo have volunteered. Is there anyone else you think we’ll need?”

Minhyuk shook his head but then gave a small gasp of exclamation. “The kumiho.”

“Excuse me?”

“We can use him as cannon fodder, if necessary.”

“Fuck off.”

“Seriously, Bin, we might need him. He’s traveled greatly and he knows many things. Get the kumiho. And put him in the chains we had — the collar, too.”

Bin rolled his eyes. “I’m not putting him in—”

Minhyuk didn’t let him finish. “He has already proven himself to be untrustworthy. If he shifts into his other form, he could put us all in danger. The collar will prevent him from attacking or escaping us. Either leave him in his cell or put him in the damn collar.”

“Then I’ll leave him in the cell.”

“That’s not actually an option.”

“You said—”

“Jinwoo!” Minhyuk called, bypassing Bin and stepping over to the boat. He gently deposited Myungjun onto a seat, grunting with the effort, and turned to face his navigator. “Jinwoo, go and put our captive in bindings. Add the collar. Treat him well, please.”

Jinwoo, at least, listened to his commands. Even though Bin fumed and fussed, Minhyuk refused to allow such a dangerous creature to walk amongst them without any preventative measures.

Besides, he still wanted to punish both Bin and Dongmin for hurting poor Myungjun. It might have been petty, but Minhyuk had never been above being a little petty. And when Jinwoo pulled Dongmin to the main deck, the kumiho bound in chains, Minhyuk definitely felt a sliver of satisfaction and he tried his best to hide a smirk.

No one spoke until the boat was being lowered, and Dongmin snapped, “Are you enjoying this, Captain?”

Minhyuk hummed but chose not to reveal any other information. 

“The collar is unnecessary.”

“I think not.”

“It’s not like I’ll run.”

“Is it humiliating, though?”

Dongmin looked away, cheeks red with embarrassment. Beside him, Bin glowered, which Minhyuk chose to ignore. He instead glanced at Sanha and Jinwoo, both of whom were trying their best to stay out of the ordeal. Though he was certain they felt more comfortable with the kumiho in chains, they knew better than to speak up against either Minhyuk or Bin. 

Silence fell upon the crew, even as they rowed out to shore. Minhyuk didn’t mind; he was used to silence. He was used to the ever-encompassing void of silence, and he hoped the others would soon feel even a small iota of his daily life.

Once they reached land, Minhyuk carefully placed Myungjun into the water, making sure he stayed in the shallow end. The waves rushed over Myungjun and the siren smiled happily before flopping over, allowing the water to cover his head. His gills breathed instead, and Minhyuk watched, fascinated, as they moved to suck in oxygen from the water.

Bin tapped his shoulder and Minhyuk faced him.

“Should we go explore?” Bin asked. He held onto the chains that bound Dongmin, though he didn’t look too satisfied with his new job. 

Minhyuk stepped out from the water and gazed at the island. There were rocky cliffs and tall mountains; it was a rather large island, from the looks of it, and Minhyuk found himself growing a bit worried at the sheer size. “Don’t go too far,” he warned, following Bin to the tree line. He could see birds from afar, circling a patch of land, and he pointed at them. “Perhaps go and see if they have found food. I know oftentimes birds gather in human-heavy areas, especially if the humans have been fishing. Perhaps we can find people that live on this island.

Dongmin glanced up at the birds, too, and he grimaced. “I hate to say it, but I don’t believe those are birds.”

“What?” Minhyuk fumbled with his binoculars. “Of course they’re birds! What else would they be?”

“Not birds,” Dongmin reiterated, and Minhyuk growled in frustration as he looked through his binoculars. 

Unfortunately, Dongmin was correct. They were too large to be birds, and they had human heads. It was a creature Minhyuk had never seen before in his entire life, and he felt his fingers tremble as he passed the binoculars over to Bin.

“Those...those are…?” he started.

“Harpies,” Dongmin continued for him. “While your siren and I might have human tendencies, harpies are simply grotesque creatures who live solely to kill and torture.”

Minhyuk cursed and glanced to Sanha and Jinwoo, who listened to the conversation with horror. “We should leave,” Minhyuk decided. “We’ll take the boat back to the ship and continue—”

He couldn’t finish, however, for Dongmin suddenly moved, tearing his chains from Bin’s hands and running back to the shore. Bin followed him, and when Minhyuk spun around, he yelled in horror.

Myungjun was grasped in the claws of a harpy and was being lifted from the water.

Minhyuk fumbled briefly with his gun, but he managed to pull it out and aimed. The harpy was above water, and Myungjun struggled in its grip, but he was certain that he could shoot. 

But what would become of Myungjun? He was high up, and he would fall in shallow water. He would seriously injure himself, if he didn’t die from the fall, and neither Dongmin nor Bin were close enough to catch him.

He couldn’t allow the harpy to take Myungjun, though. He took a deep breath and shot.

The bullet grazed the harpy’s wing, and by the time Minhyuk aimed again, he realized it was far too high to kill.

Myungjun was being taken from him and he was powerless to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for patiently waiting FIVE WHOLE MONTHS for an update. i'm so sorry it took this long. ;A;

Minhyuk could only stare at the sky in horror. His knees shook. His lips quivered. Thoughts raced through his mind and he could only imagine what the creatures would do to poor Myungjun.

By the time Bin rushed to his side, Minhyuk was nothing more than a blubbering mess.

“Th-They to-took Myungjun!” he cried out, sobbing into his hands. “What i-if they kill him? What if the-they  _ torture _ him? Oh, god, Bin, I-I let them take Myungjun! He’s do-done nothing but help me, an-and this is how I pay him back?”

He felt Bin embrace him, and though they had done nothing but fight for the past day, Minhyuk allowed himself to fall into Bin’s arms. He cried into Bin’s shoulder, gripping tightly at his shirt as he imagined Myungjun undergoing torture, surrounded by hideous creatures that wanted nothing more than to cause him pain.

He was only pulled away from Bin to see Dongmin speak.

“They won’t kill him right away,” Dongmin assured him, tugging slightly at his collar. “Harpies are known for torture. They’re likely taking him to their nest, and if we can find their nest, then we can save him.”

Minhyuk thought Dongmin seemed far too calm for such a situation, but that composure was helpful. Dongmin wasn’t panicking or stressed; surely that meant there was a good chance they would find Myungjun alive.

“He’s strong,” Minhyuk whispered, trying to convince himself. “He killed that jiaolong. He’ll fight off harpies.”

Dongmin nodded along with him. “And there aren’t many in a nest. Five, if even that many. He’ll be fine. We just have to find him.”

Bin spoke. Minhyuk heard the light hum of his voice, and he glanced up to his quartermaster to catch his words. “—dangerous? Should we really risk our lives for him?”

Minhyuk took a deep breath, ready to fuss at Bin, but Dongmin spoke before he could. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bin. Myungjun has saved all of us. It’s clear he means a lot to Minhyuk, too. Would we really be okay with ourselves if we left him to die?”

Bin pursed his lips and averted his eyes. Minhyuk chose not to comment on Bin’s cruel words and instead asked, “How do we know where the nest is?”

“Harpies make their nests on cliffs, usually, so if we just head there—” Dongmin pointed over to the rocky terrain and Minhyuk only glanced briefly before returning his gaze to the kumiho’s mouth in an attempt to catch the rest of his words, “—then we might be able to get to him in time.”

The  _ might _ didn’t go unnoticed. Minhyuk felt dread fill his stomach as he thought of such implications. They might  _ not _ get to Myungjun in time. They  _ might _ arrive too late, and Myungjun  _ might _ already be dead.

Minhyuk felt his breath come out in short spurts. Bin had to hold him again, but Minhyuk uttered into Bin’s shirt, “His wounds still weren’t healed. What if — what if they open back up and become infected? What if he dies anyway, even if we save him? What if he dies  _ before _ we save him, and he believes that I am—”

Bin pulled him back and looked him in the eye, serious and determined. “Stop it,” Bin scolded. “Dongmin knows enough to get us to him. And, like you said, Myungjun is strong. He’s a fucking siren; that has to count for something, right?”

Minhyuk nodded along to Bin’s words, hopeful that he could convince himself of the same thing. 

He had to remain composed. He couldn’t show weakness to his crew. He wiped at his eyes and glanced at Jinwoo and Sanha, both of whom had watched the proceedings with a wariness that Minhyuk couldn’t blame them for.

“You two do not have to come,” he assured. “You can return to the ship. I...I understand we’re severely off course, but I can’t...I can’t leave Myungjun to die.”

Sanha was the first to respond. “I can come!” he announced. “Though, do I have to fight the harpies? I don’t think I’m very good at fighting. I’m just a merchant.”

“You don’t have to fight,” Minhyuk replied. “I have Dongmin to do it.”

Jinwoo raised his eyebrows at that. “Would the kumiho fight for us, though?”

All eyes turned to Dongmin, who sighed and tugged at the collar around his neck. “Could I get this piece of metal off of me first?”

“You might run,” Minhyuk stated, wiping his eyes free of tears.

“I won’t.”

“You  _ might _ .”

Dongmin took a deep breath and glanced at Bin. His eyes were full of longing and guilt, and he repeated himself again. “I won’t.”

Though Minhyuk could not hear, he knew the promise that was laced into such simple words. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dongmin would not run. He could probably attack them at any time, and yet he remained submissive, showing nothing but loyalty to a crew who kept him locked amongst the wine.

Minhyuk closed his eyes briefly and made his decision. “Free him.” He took the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Bin, who fumbled with them excitedly. He hurried to unlock Dongmin from his bondage, and Minhyuk felt pain strike his heart when he recognized the returned longing in Bin’s own gaze. He had to turn away from such a scene, feeling rather sick to his stomach.

But the illness was brought about by more concerns of poor Myungjun. Not having him around made things feel so much more  _ empty _ . He swallowed thickly and then began to stride forward, quick on his feet.

“Come along!” he barked, not waiting or looking to see if the others were following him. He didn’t care if they were; he could find Myungjun on his own. He  _ would _ find Myungjun, regardless of who stood by his side. 

He wouldn’t leave his siren to die.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

The forest that stretched out before the mountains was far easier to traverse than Minhyuk had assumed it would be. There wasn’t too much undergrowth and the trees stood far apart from each other, allowing for quick and smooth travel. Minhyuk was just short of jogging as he walked along, sweat beginning to collect on his brow from the lack of shade offered. He didn’t care, though. He could worry about probable heatstroke later when he had Myungjun safe in his arms.

When they had come to a clearing, Minhyuk could see the rocky cliffs better. There were no harpies fluttering overhead, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign. He glanced at Dongmin for an explanation. The kumiho seemed to recognize the confusion in his gaze and stepped forward.

“Usually there are harpies at the nests,” he mentioned, “so unless I was wrong, then they should be up there.”

“You’d best pray, for your sake as well as Myungjun’s, that you’re  _ not _ wrong,” Minhyuk snapped. Fear filled him and he asked, a bit timid, “What are the reasons for the harpies not being present?”

Dongmin stared at him for a few seconds, hesitating. He only spoke when Bin nudged him. “It could be that their nest is elsewhere on this island. I have not seen past these mountains, so I am unaware of what lies ahead.” When he noticed Minhyuk stiffen, he was quick to add, “Or...or it could be that the harpies were killed. Your siren is strong, if he killed a jiaolong, and I’ve no doubt he could take on several harpies. They aren’t the most intelligent of creatures.”

“But the jiaolong was in the sea, in Myungjun’s domain. These are birds — he’s never fought birds before. He’s at a disadvantage if he can’t even move.”

Dongmin pursed his lips and looked back to the cliffs. He pondered, taking even longer this time, long enough for Minhyuk to turn around and begin hurrying along again. He was stopped when Dongmin grabbed his arm, saying something rapidly.

“Slow down,” he demanded, wrenching his arm from Dongmin’s grasp.

Despite being a kumiho and Minhyuk’s captive, Dongmin always listened to him with rapt attention and ensured that he spoke so Minhyuk could read his lips. Even in such a tense situation, he remained true to his character.

“I can go ahead of everyone else. I can turn into a fox and run faster and climb the cliffs better. If I find Myungjun, I can try my best to rescue him, or at least let you know where he is.”

It was a good plan. It made  _ sense _ . However, it filled Minhyuk with fear and dread. There was a strong possibility that Dongmin would run. He would escape his captors and return to a life of trickery and solitude.

_ No _ , Minhyuk reminded himself. He had been sincere earlier, and he had stuck true to his word. There was no reason to not trust him.

Besides, if he left, Myungjun would be in a no worse-off position than he was currently in.

Minhyuk gave Dongmin a sharp nod. “Call for Bin if you find anything,” he ordered.

Dongmin smiled, a kind and genuine smile. He seemed eager to please; for what, Minhyuk was unsure. “I’ll do my best to locate him,” Dongmin assured. He glanced over at Bin and his smile grew wider. Minhyuk resisted the urge to gag as he watched Dongmin shift into his true form, detailing his kumiho attributes for the crew to see. Then, just like that, he was gone, prancing across the forest floor with such ease that Minhyuk almost grew jealous of his mammal-like abilities. 

But humans were useful, too. Plus, he had a gun; that had to count for something.

They continued onward, sans Dongmin. With each passing minute, the terror in Minhyuk’s chest grew. He imagined such horrible thoughts. He imagined Myungjun being pecked and eaten, Myungjun being ripped apart, Myungjun bleeding out over the nest of fucking harpies. He was sure the crew could  _ see _ his fear, too, and his powerful persona faltered. Several times, Bin brushed up against him, a wordless gesture of comfort. Minhyuk would lean into him for a split second before hurrying forward. There was no time to stop and indulge himself in such a delight. If he wanted to make it to Myungjun before he died, then he needed to use every little bit of time he had been given.

They began to ascend after a short while. There was no path, and so they made one along the treacherous mountain, climbing over rocks that jutted out from the cliff, scrambling to find purchase on slippery ground. Minhyuk didn’t stop; he wouldn’t stop. There was no plan, either, save for making it to the top and killing those damn birds.

He glanced behind him at one point. It was only Bin who followed, and he was quick to give an explanation: “It’s dangerous. I ordered Sanha and Jinwoo to stay behind.” Then, suddenly, he gave a small smile. “They actually wanted to come. They like you, Minhyuk.”

Minhyuk couldn’t fathom why. He had not connected with them, nor had he taken into account their thoughts on such a bizarre situation. But he couldn’t voice his issues with their loyalty at the moment. Myungjun was the only important thing on his mind. He merely nodded and continued to hike upwards, heart pounding in his chest as sweat dripped down his face.

Finally, finally,  _ finally _ , they reached the top. Minhyuk took one deep breath, a second to regenerate his energy, and then looked around. He could see a few nests scattered about, large and foreboding and lined with bones of animals — and, possibly, bones of humans. Minhyuk swung his head around wildly, looking this way and that, before he called out Myungjun’s name.

Beside him, he could hear a hum; Bin was likely doing the same thing. It was in vain, and Minhyuk stomped a foot. “He can’t fucking respond. How the hell do we—”

Bin grabbed him before he could finish, holding him still. “I heard a reply.”

“Was...was it Dongmin? It could only be Dongmin, right?”

“Yes. I don’t know where he came from, though.”

They stood still again. Bin listened and Minhyuk watched his friend, desperate for some sort of news. When Bin perked up, Minhyuk grabbed onto his arm, tugging it as a silent request for more information.

Bin was quick to deliver. “Follow me,” he ordered.

He began jogging along, and Minhyuk followed. He longed to ask for specifics; what did Dongmin say, how close is he, is Myungjun hurt, is Myungjun alive, did he even find evidence of Myungjun? So many questions flitted about in his mind, but all he could do for the moment was run closely behind Bin, keeping alert for any sights out of the ordinary, or any of those damn birds that would come at them.

As it was, he was thankful he was the one on guard. A harpy suddenly flew up from somewhere nearby and flapped its wings around them both. Bin stumbled backwards just as it reached a sharp talon out, and Minhyuk held out his pistol, shooting the harpy once in the middle of his abdomen. The harpy seemed to flutter about in the air before it collapsed at their feet. Still, it floundered, but Bin was quick to finish it off with his knife.

It was an interesting creature, and had it been any other circumstance, Minhyuk would love to study it. But Myungjun was still missing and Dongmin was nearby; he would come back to the harpies once he ensured the siren was safe.

They hurried over the body of the harpy and scrambled across some rocks before finally coming face to face with Dongmin. Dongmin looked worried and he rushed toward Bin. “I heard a gunshot. Are you guys alright?” 

Bin responded, but Minhyuk, standing behind him, could not read his lips. Instead, he surveyed the area for Myungjun and was frustrated when he found no sign of a siren nearby.

“Where the hell is he?” he snapped, desperate for some good news.

Dongmin looked at Minhyuk and began talking a bit slower, always considerate of Minhyuk’s inability to hear. “Not here. But he’s close.”

“How do you know that?”

“I called out for him in his language. I yelled if he was alive, he should make some sort of sound so I would know. Right after that, I heard what sounded like two rocks pounding together. I believe he’s alive, I just think we’re a little bit further than we should be.” He pointed further across the mountain, where the rocks grew more treacherous and where the land seemed to stretch on forever. “Let’s keep going this way.”

Minhyuk nodded his head, frantic to find Myungjun, but he asked, “Will...will he be alright in the meantime?”

Dongmin gave him a kind smile. “I have no doubt. He’s strong.”

“I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“I’m not pitying you. I’m being serious; sirens are incredibly strong and crafty creatures. Harpies are a little dumb. I mean, they have bird brains. Myungjun will find it easy to outsmart them.”

Even if Dongmin  _ was _ just saying things to make Minhyuk feel better, Minhyuk found himself taking those words to heart. Besides, he had seen the way Myungjun had fought the jialong. He knew Myungjun would not allow himself to be bested so easily by  _ birds,  _ even if those birds were huge and had giant claws and ripped people apart with very little qualms. 

And so onward they went. They encountered another harpy, and Minhyuk was quick to use his gun once more. 

The bullet pierced the harpy’s wing. It went down, but not before grabbing Bin’s arm with its talons. Bin seemed to yelp as sharp claws pieced into skin, and Dongmin yanked the talons off with surprising strength. They killed that harpy, too, and took a short break to examine the bleeding wound on Bin’s arm.

“It’s not bad,” he assured them as the other two fretted over it. “Honestly, it isn’t. We can bandage it up at the ship.”

Minhyuk thought he would feel more concerned for Bin, but he found all of his concern was now directed toward Myungjun instead. Sure, there was a nagging worry in his chest, worry that reminded him of how important Bin was, but then his heart took over.  _ Myungjun saved you _ , his heart reminded that worry,  _ Myungjun saved everyone, and Myungjun could be in greater pain, is  _ probably _ in greater pain, Bin can handle a few scratches on his arm, don’t you want to save Myungjun? _

Minhyuk swallowed thickly and began the trek across the mountain once again.

It wasn’t long before they came to an unusual sight. Just past a steep climb of more rocks were dozens of giant nests. Many of them had huge eggs laying around; some of those eggs were hatched, but most appeared unscathed. Minhyuk stared at their surroundings in shock. Beside him, Dongmin tensed and nudged his shoulder.

“Be careful,” Dongmin said, holding a finger up to his lips to signify  _ quiet _ . “They’re very protective of their nests.”

“Do you think Myungjun is—” Minhyuk started, but Bin covered his mouth.

“You’re speaking too loud,” Bin said.

Damn. He forgot that he had no volume control. He nodded his head, mouthing a quick  _ sorry _ before gesturing about and asking, “Myungjun?”

Dongmin grimaced. “He’s probably here somewhere. He might be hiding and keeping a low profile; if harpies find him alive, they’ll kill him.”

Minhyuk tightened his lips, putting his gun away in his holster for the time being. He could see harpies in the distance, flying about as if they found some food, but there were none over here. He prayed to the gods that it wasn’t  _ Myungjun _ the harpies far away were preying on.

Dongmin stepped forward first, keeping in between the nests, holding his arms out for balance. Minhyuk followed, and Bin brought up the rear. They glanced about, ducked when they thought a harpy far away had flown a bit too close, and kept clear of the nests with eggs. Minhyuk did peer into a few of the empty nests, and was disgusted at the sight. Giant feathers, egg shells, and, most disturbingly, bones. There were bones of animals and bones of humans; Minhyuk swore one nest had bones of some sort of giant fish. His heart hammered in his chest as he reminded himself that it wasn’t  _ Myungjun _ , that they hadn’t gotten Myungjun, that Myungjun’s bones would be more similar to his own and wouldn’t look like, well, a fish.

He came across another nest with a deer, torn apart and mangled in such a terrible way, still bloody and only half-eaten. He tried not to puke, thinking of poor Myungjun’s body also twisted into an unrecognizable shape.

Dongmin stopped them suddenly, and Minhyuk was forced to stand beside that nest, forced to breathe in the fumes of the dead, bloated, bloody deer. He didn’t dare speak, not knowing how loud his voice might become, but fortunately Dongmin was quick to answer his unspoken question of  _ what is it? _ He pointed down the hill.

Myungjun was there.

He appeared to have slid down a significant amount. Minhyuk couldn’t imagine how painful the bumpy terrain must have been on poor Myungjun’s already-wounded body. He feared, for a second, Myungjun might have died from the fall, but then Myungjun moved, lifting his head to gaze back up at them.

He grinned and pointed beside him, where two dead harpies lay.

He killed two harpies.

Myungjun was terrifying and inspiring and  _ amazing _ .

They moved to the edge of the mountain and looked for a proper way down. Myungjun had slid and had tumbled, likely on his own accord to get away from the harpies who then must have chased him and fought him until they succumbed to Myungjun’s sharp claws and teeth.

Minhyuk decided there must be a better way of getting down there.

He was the first to make a move. He was smaller than either Bin or Dongmin, and he could move a bit quicker, too. He traversed the rocks and only slid a couple of times, grounding his boots into small crevices in the rock so he wouldn’t fall all the way. Finally, after a few stumbles, he made it to where Myungjun lay. Ignoring the harpies for the time being, he gave the siren a quick exam, trying to ensure there were no mortal wounds. His chest wounds had reopened, which would be tricky to deal with while they also had to let him soak, and he had several deep gashes on his arms and fin and a few bruises on his shoulders, but otherwise he seemed fine. In any case, he smiled again, and he mouthed,  _ Minhyuk! _

Minhyuk returned his smile as Bin and Dongmin came down beside them. He wiped some blood off Myungjun the best he could, but before he could do anything else, Myungjun leaned forward and kissed his nose.

It was just like what he had done earlier. It was soft and sweet and innocent. Minhyuk’s heart beat loudly in his chest and he found himself blushing slightly, even with the chaotic situation. He glanced behind him, hopeful that Bin and Dongmin had not seen; unfortunately, they returned his stare, Bin frustrated and Dongmin interested.

Minhyuk cleared his throat and gestured at Dongmin. “Help me pick him--”

This time, it was Myungjun who put a hand over Minhyuk’s mouth and raised his eyebrows. Right, they needed silence. They needed to ensure the harpies still alive did not hear them. Minhyuk looked to the dead harpies lying close by. Their necks were ripped apart with scarily accurate precision. The same blood that pooled around their bodies was found underneath Myungjun’s long, sharp claws. He truly was impressive, and as Myungjun removed his hand from Minhyuk’s mouth, Minhyuk offered him a nod and a small smile.

Dongmin came forward and picked Myungjun up, as Minhyuk had been trying to request. He didn’t grunt under the weight, nor did he seem to give any indication that he was struggling to hold a siren. Dongmin’s supernatural abilities might extend to strength, too, and Minhyuk was grateful that he had brought Dongmin along with them.

Bin led the way, carefully making their descent down the mountain. Minhyuk took out his compass to ensure they were headed in the right direction. He would move his arms around, directing the others to where he knew the ship was.

All seemed to be going well, and that was when a harpy decided to attack.

Minhyuk, unable to hear, was taken by surprise when the harpy flew down to him. He stumbled and nearly fell off the rocks and to his death, only saved by the damn harpy, who grabbed him with its talons. Minhyuk could feel the skin on his shoulder tear, and he was lifted briefly by the harpy.

He grabbed at the talon wrapped around his arm, trying his best to tug free, but it was Bin who ran with his knife and sliced at the harpy.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to deter it. The harpy flapped its wings wildly in Bin’s face and Bin, already in a precarious position, did stumble and fall. He managed to keep himself on the rocks, however, instead of tumbling down the cliffside. Minhyuk’s stomach lurched and he thanked the gods above that Bin was alright.

Then, he tugged again, despairing when the harpy began to drag him violently away from his group. He fell on the ground, gasping as his body hit the sharp rocks just below him. The harpy readjusted its grip, but before it could get any further, Dongmin scrambled forward.

He held out Myungjun, and Minhyuk’s eyes widened. “Dont!” he yelled, but it was too late. Dongmin tossed Myungjun as if he were a projectile.

Myungjun seemed to have wanted it, though. Myungjun appeared ready for the toss, and he attached himself to the harpy the moment he landed. His fangs pierced skin, and his claws began to tear angrily at the harpy’s face, ripping through as if it was naught but thin parchment paper.

It didn’t take very long at all for the harpy to fall. It flapped its wings weakly a few times and it struggled to get out of Myungjun’s grasp, but the siren refused to let up. Myungjun continued until the harpy was still, and even then he yanked out some feathers and took a bite of flesh from the shoulder, chewing happily as if to reward himself for a job well done.

Bin helped Minhyuk sit up, and he looked over his body for any wounds. Minhyuk’s arm was bleeding, and his shoulder was ripped up, and he knew he had some bruises on his back, but otherwise he was fine. He was winded and exhausted and his heart wouldn’t stop beating in his chest, but otherwise he was fine. He was in awe of Myungjun, in fear of Myungjun, in absolute adoration of Myungjun, but otherwise he was fine.

Myungjun crawled toward him and reached a blood-covered hand toward his face. He brushed bangs aside and blinked. Then he pointed at Minhyuk’s shoulder and grimaced before cocking his head inquisitively. 

_ Hurt? _ he was asking.  _ Are you hurt? _

Minhyuk gave a slight chuckle and shook his head.  _ No, _ he responded.

Myungjun raised an eyebrow.  _ You’re lying _ .

Minhyuk smiled and then gestured a bit with his hand.  _ Only a little _ .

Myungjun stared at him for a bit longer before smiling, relief filling his expression.  _ That’s good _ , he said.

It was such a short conversation. It had no words and no sounds. They didn’t move their mouths, nor did they even understand the same language. But even with all the obstacles in their way, they had managed to converse. Minhyuk felt giddy. He didn’t even care that Bin and Dongmin were watching; he leaned forward and planted a light kiss onto Myungjun’s lips. They were so soft, so perfect, and he longed to get lost in the kiss, as he had done before. But he refused to at the moment, and when he drew back, he noticed Myungjun’s cheeks were a bit pink.

_ Cute _ , Minhyuk thought.  _ Cute, cute, oh my god, I like this siren. _

It was official; he was falling in love with Myungjun.

And he didn’t mind it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense (and to remind me not to take so long again for an update).


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how long this will be, im just writing whatever comes to mind at this point lol, sorry for the lack of coherent plot

The crew were happy to see them again. Minhyuk was approached by Jongwoon first, who appeared to have noticed their bloody skin from a distance. He said something rapidly, something Minhyuk couldn’t quite make out. Bin answered, but before Minhyuk could ask what was being said, he was clapped on the shoulder by a smiley Woosung. 

“You found him, then?” Woosung asked. It was a rhetorical question, for Myungjun was still in Dongmin’s arms, staring around at the crew with fascination. Of course, this was the first time they had come so close to him. Usually they treated Myungjun as if he was one of the evil sirens, one of the sirens who would sing and lure men closer and rip them to shreds with sharp teeth. But today they seemed a little more relaxed. Perhaps the presence of Dongmin, holding Myungjun tightly, spurred them closer. Or perhaps the amount of blood smeared across Myungjun’s entire body was a reminder that he was in pain and unlikely to kill. Or perhaps they had a change of heart; Myungjun had worked hard to protect the entire crew, after all, and he had proven himself to be a valuable asset. Not only had he killed a jialong, but now he had killed harpies. He still carried with him the feathers he had ripped from the harpies’ wings, and he looked upon them in amazement and curiosity.

Minhyuk wished he understood Myungjun’s language. He wished Myungjun could talk and tell him why he was collecting those items, why he wanted to become human so terribly.

As it was, Myungjun was mute and Minhyuk was deaf and they had different languages. He could only wish and dream and hope.

“We found him,” he responded to Woosung. He was self-conscious of his voice now; apparently he talked rather loudly, as the others had demonstrated on that damn mountain. He had to learn better volume control.

If he  _ was _ yelling, Woosung didn’t give any indication. Instead, he smiled and nodded, then commented, “You’re bleeding.”

Minhyuk glanced down at his arm. He certainly was. With a wince, he replied, “Myungjun is bleeding more.”

“Yeah. I think Jongwoon is concerned.”

Sure enough, Jongwoon was hovering and gesturing. When he caught Minhyuk’s eye, he glowered.

“I patch him up and he instantly gets hurt again?” Jongwoon fussed. “We don’t have an unlimited stash of medication. Your siren is using it all.”

_ My siren _ , Minhyuk thought.  _ Mine. Mine. Myungjun is mine _ .

But it didn’t sound right, even in his own mind. He didn’t like Jongwoon refusing to use Myungjun’s name. He didn’t like Myungjun’s own life being passed around as if he had no control over his own autonomy. 

“He’s not mine,” Minhyuk clarified, though he felt a blush come to his face at such words. Oh, how he would like for Myungjun to be  _ his _ . Wouldn’t it be precious, the two of them together, kissing and snuggling and proclaiming their love for each other?

Of course, for that to happen, Myungjun would need to become human and learn how to speak Korean.

Jongwoon didn’t seem to care much for what Minhyuk had said. He merely began forcing them away from the crowd and down to Minhyuk’s quarters. Minhyuk could hear a low hum emitting from his throat; he must be fussing the entire time, the entire way.

Maybe it was a good thing he was deaf. He wouldn’t like to be lectured to after surviving multiple near-death situations. Besides, he was the captain; why would a lowly crew member speak in such a manner to his captain?

But Jongwoon was very skilled with medicine and had already proven his worth once before in his treatment of Myungjun. Minhyuk couldn’t very well punish him for trying to take care of the crew.

Jongwoon wanted him on the bed first. “I’ll look at your wounds,” he stated, “and then I’ll go to the others.”

But Minhyuk shook his head and pointed at Myungjun, yawning in Dongmin’s arms. “I’d rather you check Myungjun first. He was hurt the most, and his other wounds have reopened.”

Jongwoon didn’t argue. He seemed to recognize the severity of the situation, at least. He seemed to understand that Myungjun’s injuries were far worse than anyone else’s. 

Dongmin laid Myungjun on the bed, as per Jongwoon’s instructions. Myungjun did not relinquish his hold of the feathers, even when Minhyuk urged for them.

“I can put them with your scales,” he tried to assure. “They’ll be right by your side when you’re all fixed up.”

But Myungjun didn’t understand any of that, and by the time Minhyuk thought of how to  _ show _ him the suggestion, Jongwoon was already working, cleaning off the blood from Myungjun’s chest in order to better access the wounds.

Myungjun’s wounds took a while to clean and dress. Poor Myungjun kept wincing, but he seemed to accept his status as an invalid in Jongwoon’s care. He was interested in the supplies, but he did not grab anything, nor did he fight back when Jongwoon put a salve on his chest and arm that seemed to sting rather well. Minhyuk felt so proud of him, and he wished they were not in a room full of people so that he could tell Myungjun. Even if Myungjun did not understand the words that would come from Minhyuk’s mouth, he always seemed to understand emotion. He thrived on happy emotions; he liked it when people talked pleasantly to him, or so Minhyuk assumed from  _ their  _ interactions.

When Minhyuk’s wounds were dressed, Minhyuk and Bin were next. Jongwoon did not take nearly as long with them, and soon he was dismissed. Minhyuk sat in a chair and sighed as he looked upon the bedraggled members of his crew.

“Now what?” Bin asked him, sitting on his other side. Dongmin took the seat next to him, watching the conversation warily. “We have to find a way back to land, don’t we? I mean, land we’re familiar with. Civilized land.”

Minhyuk had almost forgotten they were extremely off-course. He frowned upon remembering and gazed down at a map he had laying on the table, forgotten in the past few days’ excitement. The map certainly did not detail out this unfamiliar location. Fear gnawed away at his heart but he did his best to keep his voice level.

Or, he hoped it was level. He couldn’t tell.

“I’m going to try and backtrack,” he explained. “We’ll return to the island where we met Dongmin. We’ll keep going from there. We’ll try and retrace our route to when the storm hit. We’ll try and figure out exactly what happened and why we got so turned around.”

Dongmin tapped the table, signifying he wanted to speak. Minhyuk looked up at him.

“Have you considered the possibility that you have entered a new realm?” Dongmin asked.

Minhyuk had no idea what he was talking about. “A new  _ what? _ ”

“A new realm. You are outside of the human realm and now in a more fantastical realm.” 

Dongmin’s words were met with silence, it seemed. He glanced at Bin, then back at Minhyuk and scoffed. “Oh, come. You have never heard of different realms?” Both men shook their heads, so Dongmin continued to explain, “I guess we call them  _ realms _ , but humans likely would refer to them as  _ traps _ . Gods and goddesses sometimes enjoy trapping mortals in their realm. Usually it’s when a god or goddess takes an interest in someone and wants to keep them around for entertainment purposes. Gods get bored easily.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Dongmin grinned, a canine-like smile overtaking his face. “You forget, I’ve lived thousands of years. I have made acquaintances with quite a few gods. There is not much to do in the heavens, so if they’re not waging war with each other, then they enjoy toying with mortals. I’ve met others at sea who have become lost and turned around through an act of god.”

Minhyuk narrowed his eyes as he thought over Dongmin’s explanation. It just didn’t seem very likely that a god would find much interest in him or his tiny crew. They were merchants; nothing more and nothing less. They had only set sail to ship their goods back and forth between cities and towns. What would a god or goddess want with  _ them? _

But then he noticed movement from his bed. Myungjun was sitting up. He looked tired and he gazed at Myungjun through half-closed eyes, still clutching onto his feathers.

“Oh,” Minhyuk suddenly murmured. “Could they have taken interest in us because of Myungjun?”

Dongmin looked thoughtful. “It’s a huge possibility,” he agreed. “I mean, it’s not often you meet a siren who doesn’t kill humans. Myungjun actively  _ saves _ humans, too. I suspect the gods are interested in him, and possibly in his relationship with you. I must say, I myself have never,  _ ever _ met a siren who is fond of men.”

Minhyuk didn’t know what to say to that. 

Bin tapped the table, signaling he wanted to speak. Minhyuk looked at him.

“How the hell do we get out of one of these realms?” he asked.

Minhyuk, curious to know the answer, swung his head back to Dongmin, who nodded his head thoughtfully. “There are several ways that I’ve heard of getting out. One is by meeting the god or goddess. After all, they’re curious, so they want to meet with you. The second is by finding the way out on your own. It’s merely a matter of luck, most of the time, though one or two humans have managed to outwit and outrun the gods. I do not know how. The third way is other gods or goddesses taking pity on you and flinging you back into the mortal realm.”

All of those options sounded rather difficult. Minhyuk narrowed his eyes. His ship was a trading ship, and he was a merchant. He had neither the skill nor the brains to face off against powerful gods. His crew certainly didn’t, either. He didn’t even think they had enough food to last them longer than two more weeks at sea.

Fear drummed inside his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip.

“Is...is there any way to find a god or goddess quickly?” he questioned.

“Prayer,” was Dongmin’s ready response. 

Prayer. He felt like none of his prayers ever came true.  _ Please allow me to hear once more _ , he had prayed.  _ Please allow Bin to love me _ , he had also prayed. And now,  _ please let me meet with you so I can get out of this mess and save my crew _ .

As if noticing his frustration, Dongmin sent him a soft smile. “I shall help. I can relay such information to the rest of the crew, too, if you would like.”

“No,” Minhyuk snapped. “Bin is quartermaster; he will do it.”

Bin blinked before nodding his head once. “Of course,” he agreed. “Though...it’s likely it will cause a scare. Should we really inform them that we are trying to make contact with a fucking  _ god? _ ”

He had a fantastic point. The crew had joined as traders and merchants; they were not equipped for all they had already done, and they certainly would not be mentally prepared to speak with a god. They had barely accepted Myungjun; they wouldn’t accept forcing a god onto their ship.

“Dongmin?” Minhyuk started, turning to the kumiho. “Will the gods come more if we pray in unison, or if one person puts his entire heart and soul and will into the prayer?”

Dongmin shrugged his shoulders. “It depends on the god. If one has put you in this realm because of their interest in Myungjun, then I should say that it only matters what you and Myungjun do.”

“I can’t tell him to pray to a god -- I don’t speak his language, and I doubt he even knows about gods.”

“Oh, he knows. And I can speak his language,” Dongmin said. Then he spoke in that unfathomable tongue. Minhyuk tried to make out some of the foreign words, but Dongmin’s lips moved in such a strange way. Surely Dongmin would teach him one day, though, once they were out of this mess.

Myungjun’s eyes widened when Dongmin explained to him the situation. He nodded his head with fervor, then smiled at Minhyuk. It seemed to be a reassuring smile, and Dongmin confirmed it when he finished speaking with Myungjun.

“He’s agreed. He will pray. I don’t think sirens often pray, but I’m sure as long as he thinks about what he wants, then the god or goddess will hear his pleas. They always do.”

“You must know much about the gods and goddesses.”

“Just a bit,” Dongmin said, standing from his seat. “Mind you, I know some don’t like me very much, so I expect a bit of side-eye, and maybe a curse or two.” When Bin stared at him with worry, Dongmin waved him off. “Oh, do not fret. I’ve handled gods before, and I can handle them again.”   
“Still,” Bin’s mouth formed, so miniscule that Minhyuk almost missed it. Nothing more was said until Bin also stood and pointed to Myungjun. “Shall I move him from your bed?”

“Don’t bother.”

“He’s got blood on your sheets; we can get fresh sheets, if you would like.”

Minhyuk bit his lip and thought of how nice it would be to sleep in sheets that weren’t caked in bodily fluids.

“In that case, then, yes please.”

Bin smiled at him; Minhyuk couldn’t help but to smile back.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

He wished he could hear the sounds of the sea. Silence was unnerving. The ship rocked gently in the ocean, and yet Minhyuk could hear nothing. He sat up slightly, propped up on an elbow to gaze out at the port window. The moon was high in the sky and stars were littered all around it.

Beside him, Myungjun shifted and Minhyuk turned his gaze toward the siren, instead.

“Sorry,” he muttered, knowing his movement had caused Myungjun to awaken. He could barely see Myungjun; it was extremely dark, and though his eyes had adjusted over the years to the vast darkness of the sea, he couldn’t quite make out details.

Instead, he brought a hand over to touch Myungjun, to gently brush across his cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Myungjun stared at him, his orange eyes practically glowing. His eyes  _ must _ be different from human eyes; he lived in the depths of the ocean. He must be used to the pitch black. He must see rather well.

So Minhyuk pointed at the wounds on Myungjun’s stomach and asked again, “Are you alright?”

Myungjun put a hand over his wounds, then he nodded his head. Minhyuk could just make out the slight movement in the dark.

He smiled. “I’m happy.”

Myungjun stared at him, then smiled back. He pointed at Minhyuk’s wound, far smaller, on his arm.

“It’s fine,” Minhyuk assured him, also nodding his head. “I’m not in much pain at all.” He knew Myungjun would be unable to understand the last bit, but it felt as if it needed to be said.

Myungjun laid back down again and patted the bed.

Minhyuk laughed. “You want me to lay down?”

Myungjun’s response was another pat.

“Alright, then,” Minhyuk agreed. He flopped onto his back and stared briefly up at the ceiling above him before turning on his side, minding the bandages on his shoulder, to look upon Myungjun instead.

He wished he could see better in the dark. He wished he could see Myungjun fully and completely. He wished he could see the beauty that was always present in Myungjun’s gaze, the excitement in his smile, the pure innocence in his face.

He felt an overwhelming feeling in his chest. It pulled and tugged at his heart, and he accepted it, knowing that he had something akin to love blossoming. It was so nice to feel love once more, after being betrayed often by Bin’s own emotions. It was so nice to love someone who might even care for him in a similar manner.

“Do you love me?” he asked, hopeful his voice was a whisper.

Myungjun stared. He could not understand; Minhyuk knew he could not understand. There was no way for him to explain love, unless he got Dongmin to do it instead, and he would not subject himself to  _ that _ kind of embarrassment.

So instead of talking, he leaned over and planted a kiss onto Myungjun’s lips.

It was soft and chaste. It was short and simple. When he drew back, he felt red in the face. He wondered if Myungjun could see the blush that had taken over his cheeks. He wondered if Myungjun would know what it meant.

“Sorry,” he started to whisper, but then Myungjun closed the distance between them and kissed Minhyuk, just as sweetly as they had kissed before.

It was a chaste kiss, at first. Minhyuk closed his eyes, unable to see in the dark anyway, and melted into the feeling of Myungjun’s soft, supple lips against his own. He thought it would be weird, kissing a siren in such a manner, but it seemed so  _ normal _ . It seemed like something he was meant to do, like something he could do again and again, a thousand times over.

He wrapped his arms around Myungjun, carefully and gingerly, minding the wounds that now criss-crossed his chest. Myungjun appeared rather receptive to such movement, and he curled into Minhyuk’s body, eagerly returning the kiss.

It grew more heated. Minhyuk swiped his tongue across Myungjun’s lips. He moaned, feeling the sound deep within his chest. Myungjun’s tail was pressed flush against his legs, solid and secure and  _ so _ much like human feet. Minhyuk couldn’t help but to wrap one of his legs around Myungjun’s tail, pulling him even closer. His hands explored Myungjun’s body, passing over the bandages, but dipping down at the start of the scales and the end of the skin, right where his hips ought to be. Then he traveled a bit lower, brushing over those scales, before bringing his hands up again. He gently pinched one of Myungjun’s nipples; he could feel Myungjun jolt, but they did not yet break their kiss. Minhyuk teased the other nipple, as well, giving it a similar treatment, before feeling at Myungjun’s arms. There were scales there, too, and little fins on his elbows to help him swim better through deep sea water and fast-moving currents.

It was there Myungjun pulled back, gasping a bit for breath. Minhyuk, too, had to take the time to breathe properly.

When he had enough oxygen in his lungs, he opened his eyes and gaze at Myungjun, who stared back, proud and sleepy all at once.

Minhyuk swallowed nervously and moved his arms away from Myungjun. “Sorry,” he murmured, but before he could say anything else, Myungjun touched him.

Myungjun’s fingers copied what Minhyuk had done. He ran his hands up and down Minhyuk’s arms first, feeling and prodding the skin. He seemed most interested in Minhyuk’s elbows, as if the lack of fins and scales was fascinating. Then he moved his hands to Minhyuk’s chest. Despite the shirt, he located Minhyuk’s nipples quickly enough. He poked them through the shirt, teased them as Minhyuk had done. Minhyuk bit down on his lip to keep from making noise, but when Myungjun glanced at him, a wordless request, Minhyuk nodded.

_ Keep going _ , he urged.

Myungjun smiled and returned the nod.  _ Okay, _ he said, and his fingers dipped lower, past Minhyuk’s belly-button and down to where his pants hugged at his hips.

Myungjun felt around the best he could, but with the fabric in place, it must have been difficult. Feeling rather emboldened, Minhyuk untucked his shirt and pulled it up slightly before placing Myungjun’s hands onto his skin. “Now,” he whispered, “you can feel.”

Though Myungjun did not understand the words, he seemed to understand the sentiment behind them. He smiled and began touching Minhyuk again, running his hands all along his skin as if fascinated with what he found. He tugged slightly at MInhyuk’s pants before dipping a finger inside the fabric, fortunately not low enough to touch anything of concern.

Of course, he was a siren, and sirens were tricky. When Minhyuk least expected it, his other hand moved down Minhyuk’s pants and pressed against the bulge there.

Minhyuk gasped. Myungjun’s hands drew back, as if scared of having hurt Minhyuk. He looked concerned and worried, and Minhyuk, facing growing rather red with embarrassment, tried his best to calm the situation.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s...ah, it’s, um...you have one, too, I believe.” He rubbed his hand on the front of Myungjun’s tail, feeling quite humiliated and awkward. Myungjun first appeared rather confused, but when Minhyuk pointed at both of their lower halves, Myungjun soon nodded enthusiastically.

He laid his head on the pillow again and yawned, then gestured between them.

Minhyuk didn’t know what that meant. Myungjun gestured harder. He pointed at Minhyuk’s chest, then at his own. He pointed at Minhyuk’s penis, then where his own ought to be. He pointed at their elbows, at their eyes, at their noses.

Finally, Minhyuk understood.

“We are the same,” he whispered, enthralled with the connection.

He placed his hand on Myungjun’s heart; he forced Myungjun to place a hand over his own heart.

Myungjun let it beat for a bit before grinning widely and nodding his head.

“Same,” Minhyuk emphasized. “Same.”

_ Same _ , he could see Myungjun’s mouth repeat, the wordless exclamation easy to understand, even in the dark.

Minhyuk smiled and hugged Myungjun close.

They weren’t different at all.

They were the same.

And Minhyuk loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of my lovely followers, [MagiquePillow](https://twitter.com/MagiquePillow), drew some lovely fanart of siren MJ! check it out [here](https://twitter.com/MagiquePillow/status/1324100881034465280) and [here](https://twitter.com/MagiquePillow/status/1324370648186163201)! they're such lovely drawings, too!! i especially love the one of mj eating the fish and offering it to minhyuk - idk how, but she perfectly captured how i thought out that scene when i wrote it!!! thank you so much for the fanart, my love!!! <3
> 
> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when will they confess

When Minhyuk awoke, the sun rising over the waters and casting bright rays into his cabin, he realized Myungjun had stayed by his side all night, curled up into his embrace as he slept. The previous night’s actions came to mind, and he blushed as he untangled himself from Myungjun’s clingy embrace.

Had they really kissed like that? Had he really touched Myungjun all over and allowed Myungjun to do the same to him? Oh, gods, Bin would surely kill him if he ever found out.

But he didn’t have to find out, did he? No, as long as Minhyuk said nothing of the matter, then his personal problems would remain just that -- personal. Bin wouldn’t have any need to get involved. Besides, even if Bin  _ did _ become involved, what could he do about it? He was not Minhyuk’s keeper. He didn’t rule over Minhyuk, nor did he lay any claim to Minhyuk. He was a friend, but that was all.

And Myungjun was…

What was Myungjun? He was very dear to Minhyuk, of course, but the tug now was even greater. Minhyuk longed to be with Myungjun day and night. He felt something blossoming in his chest, and as he strayed further and further from Bin, he found himself growing closer and closer with Myungjun instead.

He really, truly liked Myungjun. 

He might even, dare he say,  _ love _ Myungjun.

He thought that he might feel shame over having such an emotion for a siren, but there was nothing save for love. He loved Myungjun, and he didn’t care if they were two separate species. He didn’t even care if Myungjun could never love him back; when did unrequited love ever stop him? At least Myungjun seemed far more romantic to him than Bin ever was.

As he sat in thought, Myungjun stirred. He yawned and stretched his arms out over his head before opening his eyes. His gaze settled on Minhyuk and he offered a wide smile, fangs glistening in the sunlit streaming in from the port window.

Minhyuk returned the smile. “Good morning,” he greeted, though he knew Myungjun would not completely understand. “Did you sleep well?”

Myungjun blinked, then gestured at the bed.  _ Bed _ , he commented.

Minhyuk nodded his head and asked, “Was the bed good?”

Myungjun cocked his head. He didn’t understand. He looked confused.

Deciding to switch conversation topics, Minhyuk pointed at Myungjun’s chest. “How do you feel?”

Myungjun’s eyes brightened; he understood the sentiment behind those words, at least. So he nodded his head and smiled brightly.

“Okay. Good, then.” The bandage was still clean enough. One seemed a bit pink, and so Minhyuk decided he would change that one before going up the deck to greet the rest of his men. He forced himself out of his warm, cozy bed and rifled through the drawers in order to find the leftover gauze.

It was then he noticed the ship was not sailing.

It was still.

With a start, he dropped the bandages and ran out of his cabin, ignoring the curiosity shining in Myungjun’s gaze. He scrambled upstairs and glanced around wildly.

The ship was emptied, and they were docked at another island.

Even if Jinwoo had randomly taken it upon himself to stop at yet another island, he would’ve left crewmates on board. They would have woken Minhyuk up to let him know of their plans, if they had any. They wouldn’t have just  _ vanished _ . 

For that matter, why was there a dock at this otherwise uninhabited island? Minhyuk stared out over at the lush, green landscape, littered with rocks here and there, and fear gripped his chest. Something weird had definitely happened.

“Bin?” he called out, hopeful his voice was a loud and clear yell. “Jinwoo? Sanha?” He ran to the sleeping quarters. None of the beds were occupied. It looked, too, as if everyone had left in a sudden rush. There were a few shirts strewn about as if a few had left in the middle of changing. Minhyuk’s heart hammered in his chest, and he rushed to return to his own cabin.

Only Myungjun remained, and Myungjun watched him with concern.

“They’re all gone,” Minhyuk explained frantically, though he knew, once again, Myungjun would not understand what he was saying. “Bin and...and, fuck, even Dongmin’s gone. The entire crew, vanished.” He dressed himself and grabbed a few weapons. “I have to go and find them. They have to be somewhere on this island.”

Once he had the supplies he needed, he glanced at Myungjun. He couldn’t leave him stuck down in the cabin; it was unfair, and, besides, he likely needed to go back in the water before he suffocated on the air. But could he waste time carrying him and ensuring he stayed put in the water?

Minhyuk didn’t hesitate for too long, not when he knew the life of his crewmates might hang in the balance. He scooped Myungjun up in his arms, minding his wounds, and carried him upstairs and down the gangplank. Once on the dock, he gently lowered Myungjun in the water.

“Be careful,” he warned, gesturing at his wounds. “Swim slowly, okay?”

Myungjun watched him, eyes wide with intrigue, but Minhyuk couldn’t bother with trying to communicate at the moment. He steeled himself and hurried forward, leaving Myungjun behind.

He prayed his friends would be alright. He also prayed Myungjun would be alright. He prayed they could get out of whatever mess they were currently in by nightfall, and sail away, Myungjun in tow. He prayed no one would be hurt or injured anymore. He prayed they would get back on track and continue a normal life of trading.

His feet carried him faster and faster inland. He climbed over rocks and peered across the beautiful, grassy landscape. It was calm and serene and peaceful. There appeared to be no signs of life anywhere. Just to be sure, though, Minhyuk decided to call for his friends again.

“Bin!” he yelled. “Jinwoo! Dongmin! Suhyun! Jong--”

“Hello, Minhyuk,” a voice said, and Minhyuk froze.

A voice?

He could hear?

He spun around with a slight gasp and caught sight of a beautiful woman standing in front of him. She wore a western-styled gown that draped around her loosely. Her hair was burnette and her eyes were hazel. She was definitely a western woman, though her skin was fair and her tongue was Korean.

But how could Minhyuk hear her? He didn’t understand that. He stammered for a bit, trying to find the words to say, and then he finally blurted out, “What’s...what’s this?”

He could hear himself, too. His voice was deep and a bit raspy. It was slurred, as if his mouth was unsure of the language he spoke. His hands flew up to grasp at his ears, bewildered with what all he could now hear.

The birds were chirping. There were bugs, too, something in the trees, making a loud, buzzing noise. He could hear the distant waves crashing over rocks.

And he could hear the woman speak once more. “I have listened to your prayers,” she said. “And I have decided to grant you the ability to hear as you once did.”

Minhyuk gaped at her, his fingers still tugging on his earlobes. “You...prayers?” he questioned. My, he did love his voice! It was  _ his _ , and it sounded nice, and he wanted to hear himself speak forever and ever. “What prayers?”

She smiled at him. “Shall you accompany me to my castle, Minhyuk? I can explain everything there.”

“Castle?” Minhyuk didn’t know what to think anymore. This entire ordeal was too strange to fully comment on; all he could do, really, was repeat words and stumble around like a fool. “What...what castle?”

Suddenly, they were no longer in the middle of a field. Instead, they had been transported to a throne room, large and quite regal. The woman took a spot in one of the chairs and smiled at Minhyuk from where she sat.

“I suppose you are confused,” she commented.

“I...I guess.” Minhyuk was. He had no idea what to say. “How can...I can hear. I can definitely hear. I can hear  _ everything! _ ”

She looked excited and nodded her head eagerly. “Try yelling,” she suggested.

And so Minhyuk did. He gave a loud yell of exuberant joy. His voice echoed across the empty throne room, and Minhyuk grinned.  _ His voice _ echoed. That was  _ him _ . He could hear the echoes and the noises of servants moving about and the noise of the outside from the open windows within the castle.

When he glanced back at the woman, he realized who she was.

“You said you...answered my prayers. You’re a goddess, then?”

She nodded her head. “My name is Ceto, mother of all the sea creatures. I have become intrigued with your journey. You have encountered a number of interesting creatures, have you not?”

Minhyuk remembered Myungjun, still waiting by the ship, still a bit wounded and hurt. He wildly looked around for an exit, and he asked, “Are...are my friends alright? Bin and Jinwoo and Jongwoon--”

“Oh!” Ceto laughed and nodded her head. “I have given them shelter here. In fact, I know Bin has been inquiring about you.” She tapped her fingers on her chair. Almost instantly after that, a door close by opened and Bin hurried forth.

“Minhyuk!” he exclaimed, relief shining in his gaze. 

Minhyuk smiled; oh, Bin’s voice was  _ beautiful _ . It was higher-pitched than he imagined it would be, though the hums he heard now finally made sense. It was a bit scratchy, too, and so filled with emotion. Minhyuk would listen to Bin speak all day long if he was able to. He was reminded of his childhood, of listening to Bin speak, and his heart seemed to expand.

He closed the distance between them, running to meet Bin and gather him in a tight hug. “Thank god you’re alright,” he murmured. “And the others -- they’re fine, too?”

Bin nodded his head and grinned. “They are. They’re fine. Everyone’s here, waiting for you.”

“Why did you leave, then?” Minhyuk asked. “I would’ve expected you to--”

“See, I’m not sure about that,” Bin admitted. “I think we felt compelled to.”

Minhyuk bit his lip and glanced over at the goddess, who merely watched the proceedings with a smile. It had to be her; she was doing something, and Minhyuk wasn’t sure what it was. He wanted to ask, but before the words could come, Bin leaned forward and kissed his nose.

Minhyuk froze, mind reeling with the physical touch. Bin had never kissed him like that before. Sure, sometimes they would kiss on the cheeks out of relief. Sure, sometimes they would kiss on the lips during nights of passion. Really, everywhere was fair game when sex was involved, but Bin had still  _ never _ kissed him on the nose before.

It was intimate. It was  _ sweet _ . It was loving.

And when Minhyuk looked back at Bin, he could see plain adoration shining in his eyes.

“Bin?” Minhyuk murmured.

In response, Bin kissed him, but this time on the lips.

It was the kiss of someone in love.

It wasn’t the kiss Bin ever gave him.

Minhyuk stumbled backwards with a gasp, his hand gingerly touching at his lips. How he had longed for the day Bin would kiss him like that! How he longed for the day Bin would look at him like that! He had prayed so long for his feelings to be returned, and now--

He spun back to the goddess and snapped, “What the hell is this?”

“Do you not like your prayers being answered?” she teased. “Oh, dear, Minhyuk, you’re a tricky sailor. Most men whose wishes I have granted have fallen to their knees in reverence and awe.”

“Yes, but...I mean…” He had prayed for his hearing to be returned and he had prayed for Bin to love him and he had prayed for a way out of the realm. It seemed that Ceto was, for some reason or another, granting his prayers.

“I don’t...I don’t really understand why you’re doing this,” he commented. “Why are you answering my prayers now?”

Bin wrapped Minhyuk in his arms and whispered, “Why are you challenging her? Let’s just let the matter die and go on our way. She’ll also let us out of this realm, and we can continue to work hard, and I’ll never part from your side.”

“I could’ve sworn you liked Dongmin.”

Bin wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Not as much as I love you, Hyukkie.” 

“You’re…” Minhyuk felt sick to his stomach. He had longed for this day, but it didn’t have the appeal he thought it might. “Ceto, this isn’t him. This isn’t right.”

“It’s what you wanted. It’s what you prayed for.”

She seemed sneaky, and Minhyuk felt his distrust of the goddess growing.

“You brought us into your realm,” he pointed out. “What for? You brought us here, granted my prayers, and are now going to let us all go? It doesn’t make any sense.”

WIth a sigh, Ceto leaned back in her chair. “Ah, Minhyuk. You’re an interesting one. I would keep  _ you _ , if possible, but instead I’ll stick with why I truly came.” She tapped her chair again. This time, a few servants came in dragging Myungjun behind them.

“Myungjun!” Minhyuk exclaimed, pulling from Bin’s embrace in order to help the siren, who was thrashing against his chains. Minhyuk shooed the servants away, but they didn’t seem too put-off by either the siren nor his protective human.

“Why are you doing this?” he implored the siren, struggling to unravel Myungjun from the tangled mess of chains. “Just let him be!”

Ceto regarded Myungjun curiously. “I am mother to all the sea creatures,” she commented. “I’ve created them. I’ve given them breath. Sirens are...oh, sirens are magnificent, aren’t they?” She grinned, eyes never once leaving Myungjun’s wet form. “They possess the wonderful and beautiful face of humans, and yet they are creatures of the ocean. They are animals, when you really look at them. They do not have the same morals or ethics humans do. They will kill anything, fuck anything, and eat anything. I have always loved the siren; my finest creation yet, I believe, though I assume my brother would disagree.” She snorted but gave no time for Minhyuk to respond, continuing her short monologue. “However, on occasion I have a siren who surprises me, a siren who possesses far more human characteristics than I would like for them to. This siren is probably my greatest mystery. A mistake of a siren, really, but one I would very much like to study, nonetheless.”

“Study?” Minhyuk repeated, his stomach clenching. “You’ll study him?”

She nodded her head. “I study two other sirens, as well. Oh, they live well enough. I keep them in a pond in my castle. I feed them daily. Sometimes I allow them to meet with each other. I take note of all that they do. I am intrigued by their very existence; really, it is like having a horse who chooses to fly instead of gallop. It’s unnatural, these sirens that exist, and I want to know what has mutilated them so terribly that they have chosen the path of humans rather than the path of sirens.”

Minhyuk didn’t know what to say to that. His heart hammered in his chest and he positioned himself protectively over Myungjun, shaking his head.

“You won’t take him from me,” he swore.

Ceto narrowed her eyes. “I’m willing to answer all of your prayers,” she pointed out. “I have given you the ability to hear and I have given you Bin’s love. I will allow you out of this realm and I will ensure your safe travel from here onward. You will never have issues again with my protection.”

It sounded perfect for his career. He could continue to sail up and down the coast, trading with other merchants. He could make a fortune if all went well. He would live comfortably and never worry. He would have Bin’s love and he would be able to hear again. If he allowed Ceto to take Myungjun from him, then life would be  _ good _ .

Myungjun grabbed onto his leg. The siren looked a little worried, a little lost. He must not understand what was going to happen to him if Minhyuk gave into his selfish desires. He still put all of his trust in Minhyuk, and Minhyuk grit his teeth down.

“No,” he said.

Ceto raised her eyebrows. “No?”

“No. I don’t want Bin’s artificial love. I don’t want to hear. I don’t want to live a cushy, cozy life. I don’t want anything unless I can have Myungjun.”

“You don’t own the siren. He belongs to the sea. He belongs to me.”

He belongs to no one,” Minhyuk snapped. “He is incredibly intelligent and extremely capable. He is his own person.”

“He’s not a person.”

“He  _ is _ .” Minhyuk glared at her. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t the best idea to talk back to a goddess, but he wouldn’t stand for anyone insulting his Myungjun. “He has the same thoughts as humans and the same emotions as humans and he’s  _ the same _ as humans. He has a tail and he can breathe underwater, but the differences between us are honestly miniscule. He’s not just something you can prod at and examine. He’s a living, breathing  _ person _ .”

Ceto watched Minhyuk curiously. Beside him came Bin, gently grasping onto Minhyuk’s arm as if to stop him from continuing. Minhyuk glanced at his friend, who offered him a shy smile, and then turned back to the goddess.

“I’ll forgo Bin’s love and the ability to hear if you promise to allow Myungjun to make his own decisions in life.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And what do you suppose he’ll decide?”

“Ask him,” Minhyuk urged. 

She hesitated for a couple of seconds before saying something in Myungjun’s tongue. Now that Minhyuk could hear, he knew the language Myungjun understood was gorgeous. It sounded so melodic and pretty; he wondered how Myungjun would sound if he had the ability to speak his own language.

Myungjun listened to Ceto, but once she finished speaking, he turned and pointed a finger up at Minhyuk. He jabbed it in Minhyuk’s direction a few times and met Ceto’s gaze with a hardened stare.

She sighed and stepped back. “Fine, then,” she muttered. “Park Minhyuk, please know that you will never again receive such an opportunity. Your friend here will no longer love you, and you will return to a state of deafness.”

“That’s fine,” Minhyuk said. “As long as Myungjun has made his decision.”

“He has.” She smirked. “He’s chosen you, Minhyuk.”

He didn’t get a chance to ask what she meant, for the scene changed. No longer were they in her grand castle. Instead, Minhyuk, Myungjun, and all his men stood in the middle of a field. His crewmates looked dazed and shaken, Bin more so than anyone.

Only Myungjun, by his side and free of his chains, grinned up at him, his smile dazzlingly bright. 

Minhyuk would lose his hearing a thousand times over before he ever lost Myungjun, he decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day this story will get interesting

“Of course she would dump us in the middle of a field,” Minhyuk muttered as he and his crew trudged forward. He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to; perhaps he was only talking to himself, though he needn’t speak anymore if he could no longer hear his own voice.

Dongmin, walking alongside him, gave a small nod. He held Myungjun in his arms, casually carrying the siren as if Myungjun weighed less than a feather.

Now that he had Dongmin’s attention, Minhyuk continued, “And you claim to be old and all-knowing, but you’re an idiot. You allowed yourself and the entire crew to get captured by a goddess.”

Dongmin swiveled his head and got Minhyuk’s attention with a few small gestures. “It’s not my fault,” he argued. “Besides, you also got captured.”

“But I was the one who got us out of there.”

“Well, how am I supposed to face off against a  _ goddess? _ They’re far more powerful than I am.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes, though he had no answer to that question. He glanced instead at Bin, who had been silent for much of the walk and had averted his eyes whenever Minhyuk looked at him.

He had remembered all that had happened, Minhyuk was sure of it. Bin remembered the way he had held onto Minhyuk, the way he had proclaimed his love so readily, and the way Minhyuk had almost hesitated and accepted that false love.

Bin cleared his throat, but he said nothing at all.

They would have to discuss the events that had just taken place. Bin never knew of Minhyuk’s love; now it was out in the open, and Minhyuk found his face growing red at the thought of the revelation of his secret.  _ Great _ . Then, as an added bonus, Bin was probably aware of Minhyuk’s infatuation with Myungjun.

“Bin,” Minhyuk started, trying to keep his voice low.

Bin shook his head and looked back at the crewmates.

Of course, he wouldn’t want  _ them _ to hear. None of them were involved, and it was likely that involving them now would be a terrible step to take. Plus, Dongmin was just to his other side, and though Dongmin had likely already deduced what Minhyuk was feeling, they wouldn’t want his thoughts to be confirmed.

So Minhyuk faced the front again as he walked. “Poor Myungjun hasn’t had the chance to soak yet,” he complained. “Whenever we think he’s got a chance, we instead get sidetracked. First it was harpies and now it’s a goddess. What’s next?”

Dongmin smiled at him and said, “Dryad.”

“Hm?”

“Dryads. They’re all over this island.”

Minhyuk blinked and stopped in his tracks. The crew stopped behind him, and they all looked curiously as Minhyuk repeated, “Dryads? The...the tree spirits?”

“Tree nymphs,” Dongmin corrected.

“There’s no trees around here!”

“Not right  _ here _ , but down there--” Dongmin gestured with his head toward the other end of the island, “--I believe there are some trees.”

Minhyuk narrowed his eyes, but he could see nothing. “How do you know there are dryads? I haven’t seen any.”

“I’ve romped with dryads before. I am well-aware of their scent. Myungjun likely smells them, too, even if he isn’t sure what he’s smelling.” And before Minhyuk could say anything, Dongmin spoke in Myungjun’s tongue. Oh, how Minhyuk wished he could hear it once more! He didn’t regret his decision in the slightest, but he knew he would forever long to hear.

Myungjun perked up with Dongmin’s question, then nodded his head. He let go of Dongmin briefly to point somewhere, then quickly looped his arms around Dongmin’s shoulders again, looking quite comfortable in the hold of the kumiho.

Minhyuk had to remind himself not to get jealous.

“See?” Dongmin said, looking back at Minhyuk. “He can smell them. I think some are hiding in the fields and watching us. They likely don’t receive many human visitors.”

“Will...will they come to us?”

“Probably not. We ought to ignore them.”

But then Myungjun tugged harshly on Dongmins neck. Dongmin stumbled forward and straightened up, glaring angrily at the siren. He spoke, something that seemed rather vile based on his expressions, and Myungjun offered him a charming, fang-filled grin.

“I don’t know what he wants,” Dongmin admitted as Myungjun gestured wildly once more to their surroundings. “Do you?”

Minhyuk sighed and moved closer to the kumiho and siren. “Myungjun,” he said, gaining the attention of his friend. “What is it?”

Myungjun patted his fin, draped over Dongmin’s arms, and then pointed at Minhyuk’s legs.

Oh, right. His quest to become human. He had already gotten the tail from a harpy and the scale from a jialong--

“Shit,” he hissed. “So...so Myungjun’s trying to make a potion to become human, and one of the things required is the blood of a dryad.”

Dongmin raised his eyebrows. “He wants to become human? A...a siren wants to become human?”

“Apparently, yes.”

“Oh, my. What I wouldn’t give to steal his intelligence.”

“Try it and I’ll stab you.”

Dongmin gave a sheepish smile and then shifted Myungjun in his arms. Myungjun flailed for a bit, clearly wanting Dongmin to chase after some dryads, but after realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere, he pouted and slumped over instead.

Minhyuk sighed. “Since we’ve already gathered so many materials for Myungjun’s potion, maybe we should stop and see if we can kill a dryad?”

Dongmin rolled his eyes. “That would be murder.”

“And you’re far too used to murder.”

“Don’t be rude.”

Bin suddenly stepped up, shaking his head and speaking for the first time since they had started to walk back to the ship. “We shouldn’t allow ourselves any distractions,” he suggested. “I’m sure the crew is as tired as I am, and hungry, too. Let’s find the ship instead of fulfilling the desires of a siren.”

Minhyuk wanted to argue. He was ready, too, with insults already brewing in his mind, but Dongmin somehow got to him first.

“Now, Bin,” he chastised, “I think Myungjun’s ambition is honestly interesting. I’d love to see whether this potion will actually work, and if it does, how Myungjun will behave as a human.” He glanced at Minhyuk. “I assume that at least one other siren has tried this transformation before if there’s a recipe detailing how it’s done, correct?”

Minhyuk tried to recall what he had seen in the book. “I’m...I don’t know if it was done willingly on the part of the sirens,” he responded. “The author of the book took the stance that sirens were evil and despicable; I’m wondering if he devised the potion himself in an attempt to...make them less dangerous.”

“He shouldn’t have made them human if he didn’t want them to be dangerous,” Dongmin said. 

“The goddess spoke of other sirens she has captive who are similar to Myungjun. They act more like humans, more like Myungjun, she claims. She’s studying them.”

Dongmin nodded his head. “The goddess of sea creatures,” he observed. “Of course she would be interested. I assume she’s made sirens to be evil demons of the ocean. Clearly she had not expected any to change tune.” He looked thoughtful and peered across the field, muttering, “I wonder how many others are in the sea who behave similar to Myungjun.”

Minhyuk narrowed his eyes and looked at Myungjun, who stared owlishly back. “Do you think,” he started, catching Dongmin’s attention once more, “that Myungjun was cast aside from the other sirens due to his...differences? I mean, I know they’re normally found in groups. They share hunting grounds and, according to your experience, mating grounds. They might be social creatures. But Myungjun’s always been alone. He’s never had any other sirens near him. Could they just...hate him?”

Dongmin looked thoughtful. He shrugged his shoulders, then spoke in that strange tongue once more. Minhyuk watched his mouth in an attempt to decipher his words, but he remembered how Ceto had sounded when she spoke the language of sirens; it was like liquid rolling off the tongue. It wasn’t hard, like human languages were.

Myungjun blinked, turning to look at Dongmin. He scrunched up his nose, as if trying to figure out how to communicate, then ended up shaking his head.

“He says,” Dongmin explained, “that, no, he is not accepted by other sirens.”

Minhyuk frowned and turned away, staring over at the field. No wonder Myungjun wanted to become human; he was accepted more amongst humans than he was with his own kind. He wanted to fit in, to belong, and he would fit in better with a completely different species.

It was tragic, in a way, and Minhyuk longed to help Myungjun achieve his goal.

“Let’s find a dryad,” he ordered. He turned to face the crew, who stared at him expectantly, and he said, “Go back to the ship. Jinwoo, lead the way. I have something to do here with Bin and Dongmin, but I trust you will await our return.”

Jinwoo nodded his head. He strode forward, breaking off from the crew who stood further back, and asked, “How long will it take? I think a few of us are getting weary.” 

Minhyuk felt bad for leaving his men in such a situation, but Myungjun’s desires were far more important to him at the moment. Perhaps his priorities weren’t set straight. 

“I...I don’t expect us to be here for much longer. Maybe an extra hour or two. Or three.” He glanced at Dongmin, who nodded his head. “Three,” Minhyuk clarified. “Give us three hours, or less, and we will return. Then we can continue sailing and hopefully find civilization soon enough.”

Jinwoo nodded his head, then called out commands to the crew, who gratefully began walking again. Sanha waved at Minhyuk as they left, and Minhyuk couldn’t help but smile and wave back.

When they were alone, Minhyuk took a deep breath and faced Dongmin. “Now,” he said, “how do we get the attention of a dryad?”

“We could walk down to some trees,” he said. “I’m sure with Myungjun and myself, they’ll be a little easier to coax out of hiding. They trust creatures like us, you see, and it’s likely they can smell our scent and powers, just as we can theirs.” 

It made sense. Minhyuk nodded and looked over at Bin, whose lips were in a tight line.

“Do you not agree with this plan, Bin?” he asked.

“Of course I don’t.” Bin ran his fingers through his hair. “But you  _ are _ the captain, so I must listen to your orders with nary a complaint.”

“Oh, please. You complain all the time. Especially when it concerns Myungjun.” He took a deep breath and tried to lower his voice. “When we have some time, I’d...I’d like to talk about what happened between us.”

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Dongmin look respectfully away; Myungjun, though, scrambled up Dongmin a bit and peered over his shoulder, as if curious as to what Minhyuk and Bin were whispering to each other.

He was cute. Minhyuk smiled and almost missed Bin’s next words.

“So you like the siren?”

Minhyuk gave a start. “What?”

“You chose him over me. So you like  _ him? _ ”

“I didn’t...I chose his freedom over you. That’s all.”

“You know he likes you.”

Minhyuk said nothing; denying it would be a lie, and accepting it would be too embarrassing. All he could really say was, “Let’s discuss this later.”

“Alright, then.” Bin straightened up. He appeared a bit brighter than he had been, and he added, “I’m looking forward to meeting a dryad. I’ve heard they’re quite beautiful.”

Dongmin turned back to them, sensing their private conversation was complete. He frowned at Bin and asked, “Am I not more beautiful?”

Bin blushed and nodded enthusiastically. “Of course you are, Dongmin! You’re far more beautiful than dryads.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes and pushed ahead of his two idiotic friends, muttering, “Fuck me,” under his breath as he decided to lead the way.

Dongmin was quick to join him, trekking just a few steps ahead with an expertise so great that Minhyuk would be shocked if Dongmin  _ hadn’t _ been to this island before, or at least one like it. He seemed to know who Ceto was, and he had talked about his relations with the gods and goddesses before. He was a sneaky bastard; despite Minhyuk becoming far more relaxed around him, he knew he ought to keep an eye out.

Something moved, darting behind a tree they had walked up to. Dongmin stopped them and set Myungjun down. He called something out, evident from his deep hum. Minhyuk had to stop Myungjun from dragging himself across the ground to get to the dryad quicker.

He couldn’t believe he loved a siren who wanted to murder pretty tree nymphs for his own personal gain.

From behind the tree poked the head of a young and beautiful woman. She was definitely of Anglo descent, and Minhyuk wondered if they would even understand each other. He would have to rely on Dongmin for this, certainly.

But when she spoke, he found it easy to read her lips. Was she speaking Korean? She had to have been, unless Minhyuk gained the ability to understand English overnight.

“Why have you brought a siren ashore?” she asked. Her hum was the lightest Minhyuk had picked up, and he decided her voice must be just as beautiful as she was.

Myungjun bared his fangs, and Minhyuk drew him back. “Dongmin,” he snapped, “tell Myungjun to wait.”

Dongmin didn’t answer, too busy talking to the pretty dryad. Bin knelt beside Myungjun and held him, too, albeit with a bit more caution. He was clearly watching out for those sharp teeth, determined not to get too close.

The dryad glanced down at Myungjun and seemed to giggle. “Out of water, they aren’t so bad,” she commented. “He looks cute if you disregard his fangs and claws.”

He really  _ was _ cute. Minhyuk had to agree with her there.

She stepped out fully from behind the tree. She was nude, wearing absolutely nothing to cover up. Her brown hair was wavy and draped across her shoulders, and she had green eyes that stared upon the boys with interest. 

“Has Ceto tried to take him?” she asked.

Minhyuk was quick to chime in, refusing to let Dongmin do all the talking for him. “Yes,” he said. “She tried to strike a deal with me.”

The dryad pursed her lips. “Usually she takes sirens no matter what. She must be interested in this one’s development outside of her palace.” She glanced back at Dongmin and asked him, “Why is this siren okay with the humans?”

Minhyuk wasn’t sure what to say or how to respond. Dongmin must have answered her question, for the dryad nodded her head sagely. 

“He’s interesting,” she commented. “Is he hurt?”

“Yes,” Minhyuk spoke up. “He, er, attacked a jialong for us and was hurt in the process. He also had a run-in with harpies and that aggravated his wounds further.” 

The dryad’s eyes widened considerably. “Harpies? Jialongs? He is a vicious thing, isn’t he?”

Myungjun  _ was _ vicious. He could take down a giant sea monster by himself, and he could even dispatch at least two harpies with little concern. He was aggressive and vicious and  _ so _ wonderful. 

Dongmin said something else; Minhyuk could hear his deep hum, and the dryad listened to him with great interest.

“He wants blood?” she said.

So much for trying to kill the dryad. Now that Dongmin had told, Minhyuk wondered if they would even get anywhere. They might be forced to find another one, some poor, unsuspecting dryad who would never see it coming.

But this dryad didn’t run, at least. She blinked with curiosity as she gazed down at Myungjun, then she asked, “Can I pet him?”

Minhyuk frowned. “He isn’t an animal,” he snapped.

The dryad grinned. “Oh, but he is! To say otherwise would be a lie.”

Minhyuk wanted to continue to protest, but Dongmin must have started to speak, for the dryad  _ and _ Myungjun both glanced up at him. When he finished, Myungjun nodded his head and tensed in Minhyuk’s hold. The dryad knelt down and pat Myungjun on his head.

“Wow,” she said. “I’ve never touched a siren before.”

Minhyuk continued to glare as her hands moved down Myungjun’s body, fingers briefly touching the gills on his ribcage. She also rubbed a bit at the fins on Myungjun’s arms, and then tugged at his ears in amazement. Finally, her hands rubbed at the scales on his tail. She smiled all the while, even as Myungjun grimaced.

“How fun!” she exclaimed. Minhyuk didn’t very much like her attitude. She acted as if this was all some sort of game, as if she wasn’t just fondling a  _ person _ . 

But then she was eager to announce, “I wouldn’t mind letting him have some of my blood!”

Minhyuk perked up. “You...you wouldn’t?”

“No. I’m assuming the initial plan was to kill me, but I assure you that I can readily give my own blood and there will be no need for murder.” She gestured toward Minhyuk and asked, “Might I use your flask and a knife?”

Minhyuk emptied his flask of water and passed it over to Dongmin, then did the same with his knife. The dryad took the knife and gingerly sliced at the palm of her hand. Blood flowed down, and she squeezed her hand into a fist in order to allow more blood to drip into the flask. Dongmin held it all the while, even as some of the blood spilled over his own fingers.

The dryad didn’t seem to mind. As she finished, the wound magically healed on its own. She grinned and said, “I’m sure the kumiho will enjoy the snack on his fingers.”

“What?” Minhyuk questioned, taking the knife from her. Dongmin didn’t face him, choosing instead to close the flask.

“He’s a kumiho,” the dryad explained. “He’s also an animal. He likes the taste of blood.”

Bin said something; Minhyuk could hear his lighter hum, a bit sharp with anger, and the dryad shrugged her shoulders.

“He takes the appearance of a human because kumihos can shift, but his original form is a fox. I’m sure it’s easy to forget, what with how handsome he is currently. Who did you steal this disguise from, Kumiho?”

Dongmin didn’t seem to respond, and so the dryad shrugged again. “If that will be all, I will return to my sisters. I cannot wait to tell them the story of this strange siren who longs to become human! I’m glad Ceto did not get her hands on him, for I’d like to see his dreams come true.”

She bid them farewell, but all men were too shocked to say anything else. The dryad turned and left, disappearing amongst the trees as if she was one of them.

Dongmin glanced down at Minhyuk and Bin, who stared back up at him in confusion.

He was more of an animal than Myungjun ever was, Minhyuk realized.

“We got the blood,” Dongmin said, and he passed the flask over to Myungjun, who snatched it away greedily and held it close to his chest, a large smile on his face. He didn’t seem to recognize the tension brewing between the other three men.

Dongmin smiled awkwardly and gestured across the field. “Shall we return to our ship?” he asked.

Minhyuk knew he ought to push it out of his mind. So what if Dongmin was a kumiho at heart? They got the blood, and they got the crew together again, and they’d escape the realm and hopefully find their way back home. All would be well.

Still, he spared a glance toward Bin, who seemed much more slack-jawed than usual.

This would be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant decide the time period nor the location of this fic. is it set in a fantasy world? an alternate reality? i've no clue.

Bin was quick to whisk Minhyuk down to his cabin. He deposited Myungjun on the bed, a little too rough with his movements. Minhyuk gave a noise of protest, but Bin stopped him from running over to check on the siren.

“He’s fine,” Bin assured.

“Why the hell are you being so rough with him? He’s  _ hurt _ , Bin!”

Bin winced, and then glanced back at Myungjun, who was sitting up in the bed and patting at his bandages, as if to ensure his wounds had not reopened.

“Tell him I’m sorry, if you can,” Bin said. “I didn’t mean to. I’m just...my head is spinning.”

Minhyuk allowed Bin to take a seat, though he himself did not sit just yet. He leaned against his desk and watched Bin sigh and run his fingers through his hair.

He knew better than to force Bin to speak. Things had gotten weird and chaotic on that island, and their relationship was likely to be strained unless Minhyuk took things slowly.

“So,” Bin finally began. “I remember all that happened on...on the island. In that castle. I remember it all.”

“Oh,” Minhyuk stated, though he was already quite aware.

“It was strange. I knew all that was happening. I  _ felt _ the love, too. I felt everything. I didn’t realize it was the orders of a goddess until we were out of the castle.”

“Strange,” Minhyuk muttered.

Bin took a deep breath. He played with his fingers a bit, fumbling about like a fool. “I...I didn’t know you liked me, Minhyuk.”

Minhyuk tried to swallow but his throat suddenly felt very dry. He wondered if he had any water stored anywhere. He knew there was likely some good drinking water in one of his trunks, but he couldn’t move from his spot. He could only stand there and allow the humiliation to wash over him like a wave.

“Why did you never say anything?” Bin continued, his eyes imploring Minhyuk for the truth.

Minhyuk cleared his throat. “It...it wasn’t...it was nothing you needed to concern yourself with.”

“We slept together,” Bin pointed out. “Many times. Did you never once think to inform me that you had feelings for me?”

Minhyuk shrugged, and so Bin continued. “Did your feelings grow stronger the more we fucked?”

There was no reason to lie any further. Bin was already aware of the truth, and to try and hide it now would be silly. Minhyuk, therefore, was forced to nod his head in agreement to Bin’s question.

Bin grimaced. He looked rather sympathetic to Minhyuk’s poor, unrequited feelings. He also looked a bit guilty, as well, and he asked, “Is that why you hated Dongmin so much? You could sense I had feelings for him?”

“Well,” Minhyuk mumbled, “that and he  _ was _ an insufferable ass.”

Bin rolled his eyes but said nothing in Dongmin’s defense. He glanced at Myungjun, instead. Minhyuk did, too. The siren was oblivious to the serious conversation happening just in front of him. He was grabbing at his collection of supernatural items, instead, lining them up on a shelf and admiring them. He patted the scale and ran a finger over the feathers and shook the blood in the vial. 

Minhyuk wanted to smile at Myungjun’s adorable antics, but he hid it the best he could.

Still, Bin noticed as he turned back to face his friend. “I can’t believe you threw away years of an unrequited love just so you could keep a siren on board.”

“He’s…” Minhyuk sighed. “I like him, Bin,” he finally admitted. It wasn’t as if Bin  _ wasn’t _ aware of his feelings for Myungjun, in any case. Bin had seen the way they were together; Bin had also heard his embarrassing confession at Ceto’s palace, and he had seen how Myungjun had chosen to be with  _ him _ .

“Do you love him?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk hesitated only briefly before nodding his head. “But I’m unsure of how sirens show love with each other,” he added. “Dongmin told us that sirens don’t really have mates, remember? They just…”

“Yeah.” Bin laughed. “Giant orgies.”

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just...it’s such an unexpected turn of events! I mean, think about it! You always wanted my love, and when I finally return it, then--”

“You only returned my love under godly powers,” Minhyuk pointed out.

Bin waved him off as if that wasn’t too big of a deal, and he continued, “--when I finally return that love, you decide that you would rather sleep with a siren. A sea creature, mind you.”

Minhyuk knew Bin had heard his argument with Ceto. He didn’t really want to argue Myungjun’s humanity with his best friend. Instead, he was quick to insult, “At least he isn’t a fox.”

Bin lost his smile quickly. “Damn!” he exclaimed. “What am I supposed to do about that? I honestly never even considered the fact that Dongmin’s a kumiho first and foremost!” He put his hands over his mouth; Minhyuk assumed he was gasping. “If I make love to him, then would that be…?”

“ _ No _ ,” Minhyuk scolded. “Just...don’t even...you want to do that with  _ Dongmin? _ Gross! Not to mention, he tried to kill you and almost got Myungjun killed and -- what did the dryad say? He stole his disguise from someone else?”

Bin slumped over in his chair and ran his hands down his face. He said something, but his hands were blocking his lips from Minhyuk’s view.

Minhyuk sighed. “You know I can’t hear,” he said. “Let me see your lips.”

It took a few seconds of hesitation for Bin to reluctantly move his hands and repeat himself. “I said,” he started, “that, yes, he stole his disguise from someone else.” He pursed his lips briefly and added, “I actually asked him about that a few days ago. When he takes the humanity of a person, he is able to also take their body. He can turn himself into any of them at any time.”

“So...so this disguise is…?”

“His most recent victim. Also a man named Dongmin.” Bin shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable to be discussing the kumiho. “He assured me that the original Dongmin was a bit despicable. Greedy and selfish bastard, he said.”

“And you trust the word of a kumiho?” Minhyuk scoffed, but he continued to talk before Bin could say anything. He didn’t need to watch as Bin defended some weird fox. “Anyway, I want to ensure there will be no weird feelings between us.”

Bin blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in conversation, but then he was quick to nod his head. “Oh, definitely not. I’m...I’m sorry if I led you on. It wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s fine.” 

“So…” Bin offered him a small smile. “I’m assuming this means we shall no longer engage in nightly, lewd romps, hm?”

Minhyuk glared. Bin appeared to laugh, and he held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it. I know now that you only wish to fuck the siren.”

“God, Bin,  _ please _ .” Minhyuk ran his hand through his hair. Relief filled his chest, and he noticed a significant burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Now that he had settled his romantic feelings with Bin, and now that Bin had not tossed him aside for such a silly, unrequited love, he could breathe again. He could return Bin’s friendship without any regret or longing. They could be as they once were before.

Of course, he realized he forgave a lot when he was in love with Bin, namely his obnoxious behavior.

“I know Dongmin is aware of what siren genitals look like, but I’m wondering if you do, as well.”

Minhyuk wrinkled his nose and chose that moment to hurry from his seat and turn his back on his friend. 

“You are excused,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing at Myungjun, who lazily met Minhyuk’s stare. The siren smiled and pointed excitedly at his collection he had amassed. Minhyuk’s heart thudded in his chest, and he wondered if Bin was able to hear it.

But if Bin could, he said nothing. He walked over to Minhyuk and smacked a hand on his shoulder. He said something, his hum light and cheerful, but he didn’t stick around to make sure Minhyuk could read his lips. 

It was just as well, because Minhyuk understood Bin well enough now to know all that he said.

_ Thanks, Minhyuk. _

“He’s a sentimental bastard,” Minhyuk murmured to Myungjun, who could not understand but still grinned anyway.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

The crew had never been so pleased to make port. Sanha was the first to scramble off the ship and dance slightly on the dock, until Jinwoo cuffed him around his ear.

“Let him celebrate,” Minhyuk teased, breathing in the sharp tang of civilization. “It feels like it’s been ages since we last saw anyone other than strange, supernatural creatures.”

Jinwoo smiled sheepishly and nodded his head. Minhyuk had to give credit to his navigator; Jinwoo had worked hard to map out their new route and had taken great care in his plan. They found themselves in familiar waters within the next two days, and after that, it had been smooth sailing.

Minhyuk smiled as he watched his crew bound off the ship in delight, but then he glanced behind them, at the ocean that stretched on and on.

A hand brushed against his arm, jostling him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Dongmin, who gave him a pointed stare.

“Myungjun is fine.”

“I’m aware of that,” Minhyuk muttered, though he turned away from the ocean. “He’s a siren. A brilliantly violent one, at that.”

“Yes, and he’s been on his own for quite some time now. He knows how to take care of himself.”

Myungjun’s wounds had closed after a few days. Dongmin credited the unnaturally efficient siren blood swirling around within their finned friend. Apparently, sirens could nurse mortal wounds within a week or two, if properly cared for. And with no strange creatures attacking them in some magical realm, Myungjun had been able to soak his body and relax. He had been happy, too, constantly trying to communicate with Minhyuk. He had pointed at many different things in inquiry and had even tried his best to get Minhyuk to swim down with him within the watery depths. Every single night, he had examined his collection of potion ingredients, as if reassuring himself they were all accounted for. He was  _ excited _ to become human, and so Minhyuk found himself excited, too.

“What do you think Myungjun shall be like once he is no longer a siren?” he asked Dongmin. 

Dongmin shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve not the faintest idea. I’ve never seen any siren become human. I’ve never heard of it, either.”

Refusing to allow Dongmin’s ignorance to deter him, Minhyuk decided to imagine it for himself. “He’ll likely need to learn how to walk. It’ll be like teaching a baby, I assume. And he’ll...do you think he’ll forget his animalistic tendencies? Or shall I have to teach him how to behave?”

“Oh, you’ll definitely have to teach him.” Dongmin grinned. “Have you seen him eat? He rips through skin and bones, my god.”

Minhyuk raised his eyebrows. “How did you learn to become more human?”

It was weirdly satisfying to see the way Dongmin’s smile faltered. Minhyuk kept his smirk to himself.

“I lived around humans,” Dongmin explained. “It’s easier to pick up when you live around humans.”

“And so shall Myungjun.” 

Before Dongmin could say anything else, Bin hurried off the ship with a bag of their belongings. He looked a bit suspicious seeing Dongmin and Minhyuk standing and conversing, but he didn’t mention anything about it.

“Come on,” he urged. “I’d like to find an inn. It’ll be nice to sleep somewhere other than a ship for a few nights.”

Minhyuk  _ liked _ the ship. He liked being lulled to sleep by gentle waves. He liked the bright stars that guided his path. He liked the smell of the salt water wafting through his port window. Most of all, he liked knowing that Myungjun was close by.

Still, he couldn’t deny that it  _ would _ be nice to sleep on land and to get a few chores done. He could pick up new clothes and new bedsheets. He could restock on food and water. He could get yelled at by his clients and struggle to build back his reputation.

“Ah, shit,” he groaned, slapping a hand over his face. “I briefly forgot I’m still a merchant.”

Bin said something, and so Minhyuk lowered his hand to comprehend the sentence. “--piracy is always an option, though, if we’re unable to continue on our chosen career path.”

Dongmin looked intrigued. “I like pirates,” he commented. “A rowdy, disgusting bunch, sure, but many of them have offered me some useful intelligence throughout the years.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “Wonderful,” he quipped, ignoring the annoyed look Bin shot his way. “But I think we shall refrain from such a life. We’re  _ honest _ men, which I don’t think Dongmin knows much about.”

He didn’t wait to see Dongmin’s response. He walked away from the two men, resisting the urge to spare one last look over at the sea.

Myungjun would be fine. Myungjun was  _ always _ fine.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

“Would you stop that?” Bin asked him, swatting at his legs. “You’re making me seasick and we’re not even back on the ship.”

Minhyuk glowered, but decided to stop jiggling his leg so much. It was a nervous habit he found difficult to break. He supposed he ought to be a little more refined and gentlemanly, but his anxiety was getting the best of him as he read over a statement of his losses.

“I have no idea how the hell to recoup any of this,” he muttered, passing his paper over to Bin, who merely glanced at it.

“We could switch to the European market,” Bin suggested. “They won’t know of your name, and I’m sure Dongmin could translate for us. He says he has a few Caucasian disguises hidden away in the recesses of his mind.”

Minhyuk hated the idea, but knowing that his reputation was ruined, he found no other option. He would have to leave Asia and find somewhere in Europe to do his business instead.

“I  _ have _ always wanted to see Venice,” he commented.

Bin smiled and nodded his head. “It’ll be a new adventure. Hopefully it will be a safer adventure.”

Minhyuk was inclined to agree. He narrowed his eyes as he gave serious consideration to Bin’s suggestion. Europe was a market that had already been tapped, but it was likely they could always do with extra merchants. Minhyuk could include several other Asian nations within his route, and perhaps deliver new goods to the Europeans. It would be difficult, and, as Bin stated, a new adventure, but if he stuck around here, there would be no way to save his reputation. Already word was spreading of his misdeeds, of the lack of delivery, and of goods damaged in the storm.

He hummed a bit, then said, “I highly doubt the crew we have now will be willing to relocate to Europe.”

“Maybe,” Bin said. “Maybe not.”

“And Myungjun...I’m not sure about him.”

Bin huffed. “I believe Myungjun is the least of your concerns. We have to figure out a way to continue this career path, and that’s with or without Myungjun.”

Minhyuk sat back in his seat and glumly responded, “Yes, I’m aware.”

“So perhaps we ought to start planning our escape to Europe. Venice, you said?” 

Before Minhyuk could answer his question, Bin suddenly held a hand up. “Dongmin’s at the door. Shall I grant him entry?”

Minhyuk knew he no longer had reason to hate Dongmin. They had settled their differences, hadn’t they? Dongmin had proved himself a capable and reliable ally. He had cared for Myungjun, and for the rest of the crew. He had put his own life in danger to save others. He was intelligent and readily offered valuable information. 

That all aside, Minhyuk was no longer vying for Bin’s affections. He had crossed that hurdle and had become a bit more romantically involved with Myungjun.

With a siren.

Whatever the case, he decided he would accept Dongmin and all of the assistance the kumiho could bring.

He nodded his head, and Bin called something out. Minhyuk cherished the hum of his voice, and he couldn’t help but smile as Bin stood to greet Dongmin.

Dongmin noticed Minhyuk’s expression, but said nothing. He took a seat at the table and asked, “How long will we stay here?”

“Is that what you came to ask?” Minhyuk retorted. “Or are you just lonely?”

With a sheepish look, Dongmin answered, “The rest of the crew is still wary around me. It’s not as if I can blame them. The only other company I had was Myungjun, and since he has to keep his distance, I suppose I grew a bit lonely and came to you.”

“To Bin, you mean,” Minhyuk corrected.

The sheepish look intensified. “Yes. To Bin. Thank you for clearing that up, Minhyuk.”

Bin said something quickly, and Minhyuk only caught the tail-end of it.

“-thinking about switching to the European market. Do you know anything about Europe, Dongmin?”

Dongmin pursed his lips. “Yes, of course. I’ve been to many places throughout the world, you know, and Europe was a favorite of mine.” He spared a glance toward Minhyuk and explained, “Intelligent people live in Europe.”

“Of course,” Minhyuk mumbled. 

And then, though he knew he ought to be more focused on his job and less focused on his romantic conquests, he asked, “Would Myungjun be willing to come along with us, you think?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Dongmin replied. “Perhaps. He does seem to really like you, and I don’t think he has anything necessarily tying him to these waters, since other sirens hate him. But then,” his eyes twinkled as he looked at Minhyuk, “he’ll be human by that point, won’t he?”

Minhyuk snorted but nodded his head. That’s right; Myungjun only had to spend a bit longer as a siren.

Soon enough, he would stand by Minhyuk’s side and nothing would ever keep them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.
> 
> if you're reading this in january of 2021, be sure to take [THIS POLL!](https://forms.gle/AmAP8wqBmG7u8Aw27)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: conveniently gets rid of a lot of the crew just bc i hate writing with lots of characters
> 
> sorry, i suck

Most of the crew hadn’t been as agreeable to Minhyuk’s change of plans. Many had quit, citing family reasons and personal preference. Minhyuk couldn’t very well blame them. Europe was far different from the comfort of home, and he was taking a huge risk by even taking the chance to expand his market into European countries. 

But there was nothing left for him where he was, save for debts and despair. He had to try something else. He had to make some of his money back in one way or another.

In the end, he had a smaller crew, but still one efficient enough to keep the ship running.

Jinwoo and Sanha had elected to remain, and with both of them, plus the addition of Dongmin, Minhyuk figured he could run a small, tight crew.

On the third night out at sea, Minhyuk watched as Sanha played on a bamboo flute. He seemed good, if the expressions by the others were any indication, and Minhyuk leaned back, frustrated he was unable to hear the song.

He certainly missed music. He had quite enjoyed singing when he was a child. He had watched his father play the zither at a young age, too, and had always wondered if he would be able to play the same instrument as he grew older.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans in store for him, and so Minhyuk could only watch longingly as Sanha played music invisible to his own ears.

Beside him sat Myungjun, listening joyfully to the music. He seemed enthralled by such an instrument, and his eyes only ever left Sanha’s figure in order to look excitedly at Minhyuk, who offered him a small smile back.

Myungjun blinked and cocked his head. He examined Minhyuk carefully for a few seconds before placing a gentle, clawed hand onto Minhyuk’s knee.

Minhyuk assumed Myungjun would once again express his desire for the human form, but instead Myungjun used his legs to tap a rhythm onto.

It took Minhyuk a few seconds to recognize the rhythm for what it was; Sanha’s music. 

Myungjun wanted him to hear the music along with everyone else.

Minhyuk closed his eyes, allowing the thrumming of Myungjun’s fingers to transport him to the notes coming from Sanha’s flute. He could almost hear them, too. He could just imagine how they sounded. He wondered about the pitch and the words that might belong. He wondered so much, but he realized that for now, this was good enough.

For now, he could handle knowing just the rhythm of the music.

The song must have ended, for Myungjun’s fingers fell flat against Minhyuk’s leg. Minhyuk opened his eyes and realized Sanha was talking to Bin, probably about the song he had just played. Jinwoo and Dongmin listened on, offering their opinion once in a while.

Minhyuk turned to look at Myungjun, who smiled back, toothy fangs and all.

“Thank you,” Minhyuk mouthed.

Myungjun seemed to understand the words; if not the words, he understood the sentiment. He nodded his head and then pretended to play the flute as Sanha had done. Minhyuk held back a giggle at Myungjun’s exaggerated motions.

He wondered what music Myungjun would have made if he was able to speak.

Though Minhyuk had never heard a siren’s song, he was aware of the pull behind them. He knew they were heavily addicting and insanely beautiful. No sound on Earth could compare to that of a siren’s song. They entranced the listeners and caused the deaths of many sailors. Myungjun’s song would likely be the most gorgeous song of all.

Minhyuk narrowed his eyes in thought. 

He wanted to help Myungjun make his own music.

“Sanha!” he called out, waving an arm to capture the attention of his crewmate.

Sanha looked up at him, then jogged over, flute still in hand.

Minhyuk pointed at Myungjun and asked, “Would you mind letting him play for a bit?”

Sanha was a bit cautious. “Is siren saliva poisonous?” he asked, fiddling with his flute. “Will he leave poisonous spit for me to later consume and fall victim to?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”

He heard a deeper hum, and he looked up in time to see Dongmin say, “--was poisonous, then Minhyuk would be dead by now.”

Though he had only caught the tail-end of that insult, he definitely understood what Dongmin was talking about. He felt his cheeks redden and he snapped, “I’d rather kiss a siren than a fox.”

Dongmin closed his mouth and Bin, who had been laughing, quickly looked stark.

Once that was out of the way, he addressed Sanha again. “His saliva is not poisonous. As obnoxious as Dongmin is, he’s right; I would be dead if it was.” When Sanha still hesitated, Minhyuk added, “I think he wants to play. He can’t sing, so he’s never made his own music before. I’d like to see that changed.”

Finally, Sanha relented, nodding and handing over his flute to Myungjun, who grabbed at it greedily and began to examine it all over. He passed the flute around in his webbed hands and gently passed his fingers over the holes in the instrument. When his inspection was complete, he positioned the flute in his mouth as Sanha had it earlier, then he blew.

Minhyuk regretted not being able to hear when Sanha laughed and knelt down to instruct Myungjun on the proper way to use the flute. Sanha demonstrated a few times, and each time Myungjun would snatch the instrument back from him to try again. 

Their comprehension of each other was limited. Occasionally, Dongmin would step in to translate, and Myungjun would nod and attempt to do better.

It took a while, but Myungjun finally seemed to grasp a few simple notes. He played them proudly, and he grinned when Sanha praised him.

Before he gave the flute back to Sanha, however, he gestured at Minhyuk’s hand and then at his own throat.

Minhyuk raised his eyebrows in confusion. “What does he want?” he asked Dongmin.

Dongmin, though, looked equally confused. “I’m unsure. Let me ask.” He said a few words in Myungjun’s language, but all Myungjun could do was gesture uselessly.

Finally, seeming to be frustrated with the lack of communication, Myungjun picked up Minhyuk’s hand and placed it against his throat.

Then he played the few notes he was aware of on the flute.

Finally, Minhyuk understood. Myungjun wanted him to listen in the only way he knew how. Myungjun wanted him to join the audience and to feel the notes flowing through him.

Though it was short and difficult to grasp, Minhyuk felt like he had been part of a tiny concert, one played just for him. He couldn’t keep from grinning as Myungjun finished and let his hand drop. Even when Sanha took the flute back (and wiped it clean on his shirt), Minhyuk still smiled. He did his best to hide his growing grin behind his hand, not wanting the others to notice just how much Myungjun’s tiny gesture had affected him.

Fortunately, even though Bin seemed to recognize Minhyuk’s joy, he said nothing on the matter. He merely watched as Sanha began to perform again, turning his gaze away from Minhyuk and Myungjun and giving them some much-needed space.

“Thank you,” Minhyuk mouthed again.

Myungjun nodded his head, then squinted his eyes as he struggled to continue his communication. He mimed playing the flute, then pointed at his face as he offered both a grin and a frown.

_ Did you like it? _ he was asking. 

Minhyuk grinned and nodded his head. “It was good,” he mouthed.

Myungjun clearly had no idea what the words meant, but, once again, he followed the context clues. He seemed happy that Minhyuk had appreciated his musical abilities. He curled up beside Minhyuk, his tail flopping over onto Minhyuk’s legs, and his head resting on Minhyuk’s shoulder.

He mimed playing the flute once more. Minhyuk struggled not to laugh.

“Is it making you tired?” he asked, trying his best to keep his voice quiet.

Myungjun strained his neck to look at Minhyuk. Minhyuk mimed his question instead, first pointing at Sanha, who continued to play the flute, and then pretending to lay his head down and sleep.

_ Is it making you tired? _ so he asked.

Myungjun nodded his head and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs.

_ Yes, _ he answered.  _ Very tired. _

Minhyuk ran his fingers through Myungjun’s hair and smiled.

_ Then sleep _ .

Myungjun pointed at Minhyuk and then mimed sleeping.

_ You should also sleep _ .

Minhyuk laughed and pressed Myungjun’s head back down on his shoulder. “Later,” he commented, “when you’re asleep, I will.”

He knew Myungjun was unable to understand that, but the gentle lullaby of the flute seemed to draw Myungjun’s attention away from Minhyuk and back to the scene happening before him. He gazed out, yellow eyes struggling to remain open, watching with interest as Sanha played and Bin danced and Dongmin sung and Jinwoo laughed.

Then, he brought a hand down and traced down Minhyuk’s thigh until he reached the scales of his own fin. He curled up within Minhyuk’s hold and Minhyuk could feel him sigh.

“You’ll have legs soon,” Minhyuk assured, knowing exactly what it was Myungjun desired. 

Then, perhaps, Myungjun could teach him how to dance on beat to music, and they could involve themselves in such fanfare.

Minhyuk embraced Myungjun and kissed his forehead, excited for the day when they would be able to partake in society together.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

Days had passed with little incident. Though Minhyuk felt it was easier to breathe without the threat of jialongs or harpies or cunning goddesses hanging over him, he also missed the adventure. The life of a merchant was fine and dandy, but sometimes a bit of action never hurt anyone.

“That’s called piracy,” Bin had explained upon listening to Minhyuk’s woes. “And I’m certain you do not want to become a pirate.”

“No,” Minhyuk had mumbled, “but I want  _ something _ to happen.”

He realized, though, that wishes were finicky and the cunning goddesses above liked to grant his wishes in strange manners.

After several weeks of only a few stops, Minhyuk found himself growing interested in anything he saw amiss in the waters. He had already caught one shark and several eel, and he had used Myungjun’s assistance in order to bring up a strange, unidentifiable fish, which Jinwoo had taken upon himself to keep alive for the time being.

So when he saw a small ship, one quite like his own, out in the water with the sails down, he inched his own ship closer with curiosity. 

Bin peered through the spyglass as Jinwoo carefully steered them forward.

“Do you see anyone?” Minhyuk asked.

“A few people,” Bin commented. “I wonder why their sails are down.”

“Could they be fishing?” Minhyuk wondered, noticing some nets hanging from the side of their ship. But why would they be fishing for so many fish with such a small ship and a small crew? There was the possibility that they had run out of rations and were looking for food quickly, but wouldn’t they be catching the winds in an attempt to reach the shoreline? They weren’t  _ that _ far from another dock, based on Jinwoo’s calculations, so why would they choose to sit in the middle of the ocean?

Bin pursed his lips and said, “They’re wearing things over their head.”

“What? Like hats?”

“No, like...it’s covering their ears. Some sort of...honestly, I’m really not sure what these are. Have a look.” He passed the spyglass to Minhyuk, who was quick to examine the other crew.

Sure enough, they did wear protective gear over their ears, though the purpose was not yet identifiable. Minhyuk stared for a few seconds before a thought popped into his head.

“Could it be sirens?”

Bin’s eyes widened and he spun around, barking out something to Dongmin. They appeared to have a small conversation before Dongmin knelt to where Myungjun sat and began to speak in his tongue.

Myungjun gazed over at the waters, then held up a finger, a universal sign for  _ wait _ _. _ _.  _ He crawled close to the edge of the ship and then deposited himself into the waters, swimming downwards quickly.

“Why would they be sitting still to  _ wait _ for the sirens?” Minhyuk asked as Myungjun checked the surrounding waters. “If these are siren waters, then wouldn’t they attempt to  _ leave? _ ”

No one had an answer for him. They sailed closer to the ship, but still could not discern why the ship had stopped.

Myungjun came back after a few minutes. Sanha helped him back onto the ship, trying to discreetly move him so he would not be seen by the stranded sailors, and then they worked on communicating with him. Dongmin asked several questions to which Myungjun would nod or shake his head to.

Finally, Dongmin said, “Myungjun claims these are definitely siren waters. He found several swimming further below the surface.”

Minhyuk blinked and looked back over at the ship, at the nets hanging over the side and the crew protecting their ears.

“They’re trying to capture sirens,” he murmured. 

“It seems that way,” Dongmin agreed, smoothing down Myungjun’s wet hair. “So we’ll have to hide Myungjun before they see him; if we try sailing away now without making contact with the ship, we’ll look suspicious.”

That was true, but Minhyuk was willing to take his chances. “This ship is small. It’ll be easy to see Myungjun,” he pointed out. “If we grab the attention of those sailors, they’re likely to scrutinize our ship and our crew, which leaves us--” He cut himself off and sighed before ridding himself of his jacket and tossing it over Myungjun’s tail.

“Sanha,” he ordered, “get Myungjun down into my cabin. We’ll try and stop you from being seen, but just in case, make sure my jacket covers Myungjun’s tail.”

Sanha nodded his head and quickly got to work. He crouched, even as he walked with Myungjun in his arms. Before he could make it below deck, however, the other crew finally spotted Minhyuk’s ship.

One of them called something out and waved. Minhyuk nudged Bin forward and said to Dongmin, “Use your body to shield Sanha and Myungjun. I’ll work with Bin on distracting them.”

He stepped up beside his quartermaster as Dongmin positioned himself in front of the still-crouched Sanha.

“We’re currently sailing to Italy!” Bin was calling out. “Where are you going?”

They responded, and Jinwoo faced himself properly to translate, a gesture Minhyuk very much appreciated.

“They’re setting sail to Sri Lanka after this,” Jinwoo muttered, keeping his voice low so as to not draw suspicion to Minhyuk’s deafness. “They have just warned Bin to keep out of these waters. Say there are sirens.” Bin said something, but Minhyuk only stared at Jinwoo’s lips, urging him to continue to transcribe the conversation.

“Bin asked why they are not sailing. They are telling Bin that they plan to capture a siren to make a fortune. Bin has told them that a siren will kill them if they try to transport it, but they wish to kill the siren first. A dead siren will still bring prosperity.” 

Minhyuk felt his heart pound in his chest as Sanha continued to creep closer and closer to the door, holding Myungjun close in an effort to block him from the view of the siren hunters. If any of those men caught sight of Myungjun, then there was sure to be a fight. After all, wouldn’t a docile siren incapable of singing be much more show-worthy than dead sea creatures? Minhyuk swallowed but found his mouth incredibly dry.

The tone of the conversation changed. Jinwoo looked nervous. “They’ve noticed Sanha,” he whispered.

“Dammit,” Minhyuk replied, feeling for his gun. If it would come to a fight, then he would defend his crewmates and Myungjun to the death. He wouldn’t allow them to take Myungjun from his grasp.

“Hold,” Jinwoo ordered, and Minhyuk glared at him. “Sorry,” Jinwoo murmured, “just...don’t pull out the gun. Bin is quite skilled in the art of deceit. He has informed them that Sanha is crippled and must rest.”

“Are they buying it?”

“Difficult to say. Perhaps.”

Minhyuk held his breath; Jinwoo seemed to hold his own breath. Sanha was somehow able to maneuver below deck with Myungjun in his arms, and Minhyuk awaited the response from the other sailors.

Finally, Jinwoo stated, “They’ve wished us well and have told us to be careful in these waters.”

Minhyuk breathed a sigh of relief and wiped away the sweat that had been gathering along his brow. “Oh, thank god,” he murmured. “Alright, back to the helm, Jinwoo. Let’s continue along our course.”

He felt like collapsing. Sure enough, when Bin spun around and grabbed onto his elbow, Minhyuk felt his knees tremble slightly.

“Are you alright?” Bin asked.

“I’m fine. Just…” He waved a hand and Bin smiled at him.

“I understand. I don’t even care much for Myungjun and I was still worried we had been caught.”

“I’ll have to give Sanha a raise of some sorts once we start pulling in an income. He was fantastic.” Minhyuk straightened again and gave Bin’s shoulder a pat. “I’ll go check on him and Myungjun. Stay up here; I’ll join you in just a bit.”

Bin released him, and Minhyuk hurried below deck, where he thanked Sanha profusely and ran his fingers fondly through Myungjun’s wet hair.

“There’s one thing I’m confused about, though,” Sanha mentioned, kneeling beside Myungjun to better look at Minhyuk.

“What’s that?”

“The sirens Myungjun saw -- they didn’t attack us like they normally would.”

Minhyuk had been so preoccupied with assuring Myungjun remained a secret that he hadn’t thought about the sirens. He blinked and then slowly nodded his head in agreement.

“You’re right. They usually attack. I’ll ask Dongmin. I’ll see if he can’t talk to Myungjun and figure out why the sirens are keeping their distance.”

But it wasn’t just the sirens’ strange behavior that put Minhyuk on high alert. He realized the other sailors had hoisted their sails again. He realized they, too, were on the move.

And he realized that their course was now the same as Minhyuk’s.

They were being followed, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry

“Are they still following us?” Minhyuk asked as he made his way to the upper deck. His answer was clear the way Bin looked over at him glumly, and the way Sanha was staring through his spyglass at the other sailors.

“What on earth are they even doing, you wonder?”

Dongmin, standing beside Bin, turned around to face Minhyuk. “It was clear they were hunting for sirens,” he stated, “which is why I believe the sirens were trying to keep a distance and thus not attacking either ship. Sirens are intelligent beings, and they likely understood that if they neared the ship then they would be captured. And a dead siren brings in quite a crowd; I assume these sailors thought they could make a decent profit if they had a siren in their grasp.”

It made sense, and Minhyuk had figured that the sailors were opportunists who fell into siren waters and decided to make a fortune.

“Still,” he muttered, “it doesn’t explain why they’re following us.”

Dongmin raised his eyebrow at Minhyuk in disbelief, but it was Bin who said, “I think it’s obvious. They must have seen Myungjun.”

Minhyuk grit his teeth down and sighed. He had hoped that wouldn’t be the answer, but as the day stretched into night, he knew Bin was probably correct.

“I just...I don’t understand how. I thought Sanha kept him relatively hidden. And the sailors didn’t mention seeing a siren, did they?”

“No,” Bin confirmed, “but there’s no other reason for them to keep following us.”

Minhyuk thought of poor Myungjun, still hidden below deck without a chance of freedom, and asked, “So what do you propose we do, then?”

“Keep going?” Bin suggested. “I don’t think there’s much else we can do. They have a much larger crew, and they’re already prepared to hunt sirens. We’re nothing but simple merchants.”

“We’ve taken on a jialong,” Minhyuk pointed out, “and harpies. We’ve survived a brush with a goddess. We captured a kumiho.”

Dongmin grimaced. “You didn’t  _ capture _ me,” he argued. “I’ve chosen to stay.”

“Sure.” Minhyuk didn’t care too much about semantics at the moment. He was far too preoccupied with the idea that the sailors might soon try and nab Myungjun. They were getting close to shore, and he wondered if the sailors knew that Myungjun would have to leave the ship at some point or another. 

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, gazing out at the other ship. “They won’t be able to capture Myungjun,” he pointed out. “He is far too clever for the likes of them. And, Dongmin, you’ve already explained to him that these sailors are likely bad and will gladly spear him in order to show him off to other humans, yes?”

“Of course I did.” Dongmin snorted, as if appalled Minhyuk even had to ask. “He tried to convey that he would kill them for us if we asked him to do so.”

“He’s violent,” Minhyuk said fondly. “And quite brave, too, don’t you think?”

“I think he is unaware of the craftiness of humans. He must be careful around these men.”

Minhyuk sighed and leaned over the edge of the ship. “Then I’m not sure what we can do. How do we ensure Myungjun’s safety?”

For once, Bin didn’t make a smart remark about letting Myungjun die. For once, he seemed to recognize that Myungjun was both useful and dear to all of them, and he said, “We can fight back, if need be, can’t we?”

It was Sanha who spun around and said something in response. Minhyuk cocked his head, inquisitive, and Dongmin translated, “Sanha said he cannot fight.”

“Of course he can’t. He’s a sailor, not a pirate.” Minhyuk groaned and tried to think through their dwindling options. He had a feeling Dongmin might come in handy, but he wasn’t sure how. Kumihos could change shape and appearances. What could Dongmin change into? Was there a form he had that could cause a distraction among the other sailors, enough so for Myungjun to slip away and swim to safety?

He took a deep breath, wondering how to make his request to Dongmin, but before he could say anything, the ship jolted.

“What--” he started, and he spun back to glance at the other ship.

They were firing upon his own ship.

“Fuck!” he cursed, shouldering past Dongmin. “Sanha, move below deck -- watch after Myungjun! Jinwoo, grab the weapons and bring them up here! Dongmin, turn into  _ something _ , anything, to distract them,  _ please! _ ”

Bin shoved him to the deck just as they were fired upon again. Minhyuk could feel the ship shudder and vibrate, and he cursed again before scrambling to his feet.

There would only be one reason the ship would be firing upon them, and that reason was webbed and finned and likely unaware of the danger he was in. Minhyuk had no idea what to do except to fire back. So he took his gun from his holster and gestured at Bin. 

“Help Jinwoo with the weapons!” he ordered. “We need the cannon -- bring it above deck.”

But it wasn’t Bin who ran off to help; it was Dongmin, and Minhyuk watched as he retreated. Though he knew it was unlikely that any of Dongmin’s disguises would be useful, he felt as if it was rather cowardly of Dongmin to go in Bin’s place.

Perhaps, though, there was a greater plan that he was unaware of. He could not hear anything, and so he didn’t know if the others were yelling at each other in an effort to convey their own thoughts and ideas on the situation.

He also wondered if they despaired at having a deaf captain. He supposed they must; he would, should he be in their position.

Bin fired back with his own weapon, and Minhyuk tried to join him. It was difficult, however, for their guns were short-ranged, and the ship was far enough away that everything they did seemed to result in misses. Fortunately, it didn’t take very long for Jinwoo and Dongmin to wheel the cannon to the deck; Dongmin appeared to have far greater strength than Minhyuk had given him credit for.

They loaded the cannon and fired it. That hit its target, but it also seemed to rile up the other ship, who fired back their own cannons. Minhyuk could only duck alongside Bin as wood splintered across the railings and as debris fell about them.

They were clearly losing.

There wasn’t much to do. If they kept fighting, then they would all drown. Minhyuk considered his options briefly, then shouted at Bin, “We have to surrender!”

Bin appeared to argue a bit, but Minhyuk grabbed him and yelled, “Strike the colors  _ now! _ That’s an order!

Their ship took another hit. Minhyuk covered his head, and Bin rushed to lower the ensign. Once the flag was down, it seemed to do the trick; the other ship stopped firing and Minhyuk was able to examine his crew.

Jinwoo and Dongmin, still hunkered down by the cannon, appeared mostly unscathed. Jinwoo had a gash in his arm, likely from debris, and Dongmin was attending to it. Bin hurried back to the rest of the crew, keeping a wary eye on the other ship.

“We could’ve kept fighting,” he said.

Minhyuk sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll not risk losing this entire ship and the crew.”

“You know why they’re here,” Bin pointed out, and he gestured to the deck below.

Minhyuk’s stomach flipped. He knew exactly why the other ship had attacked them. 

Myungjun.

“Dongmin,” he snapped, “go below deck. Work with Sanha to hide Myungjun. Do your best to make him invisible.”

Dongmin bowed his head and hurried to fulfill Minhyuk’s commands. 

All they could do now was wait for the other men to board their ship and make their demands.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

The captain of the other ship spoke only to Bin. He deemed Minhyuk to be incompetent, and so Minhyuk could only glower as the captain ignored all that he said and relied on Bin for information instead.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous for one friendly ship to fire upon another friendly ship,” so Bin was saying. Minhyuk paid close attention to both of their lips, hopeful he could follow along the conversation. “We were attacked completely unprovoked.”

The captain glanced around. “You boys have something aboard this ship, don’t you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend to be stupid like your friend over there. I know what I saw. You were hiding a siren, weren’t you?”

Minhyuk steeled himself, hoping his expression gave nothing away. But the captain didn’t look at him; the captain looked at Sanha, who was quick to swallow back his nerves and glance toward Minhyuk for assistance.

_ Shit _ . Sanha wasn’t used to being singled out in such a manner. He was the weak link, then, in the ship-wide secret.

The captain took a few steps toward Sanha. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Where’s the siren?”

“We don’t have a siren,” Minhyuk lied as his heart pounded wildly in his chest. “How foolish do you believe us to be? Why on earth would we keep a dangerous siren aboard this ship?”

“I don’t know,” the captain said, finally deeming Minhyuk’s questions worthwhile enough to respond to. “Why  _ would _ you keep a siren aboard? Except for the endless fortune it will bring to you. A dead siren is worth hundreds; a live siren would be worth millions, I expect.”

Minhyuk kept silent. What was he supposed to say to that? How could he deflect this awful situation and save Myungjun from peril?

The captain didn’t seem to like the lack of any answers. He took out his gun and gestured it to Sanha.

“It’d be a shame if your crew lost their lives because you wanted to protect a  _ siren _ .”

Minhyuk felt himself tense. “Are you threatening us?” he asked.

“Yes. I want the siren, and I’ll kill if I must.”

“And if I tell you again that there is no siren?” Minhyuk wondered.

The captain thought the question over, then shrugged his shoulders. “Then this ship and the crew are useless to me and I will rid of you easily.”

He would kill them all. This man was willing to kill every single person standing beside Minhyuk in a second if he didn’t get his hands on a siren. And, really, what did he have to lose? Minhyik had left the trading ports of Asia and would not be missed. No one in Europe knew of him. In this ocean, they would be easily lost and forgotten about. The men who killed them would suffer no repercussions. 

In order to save his crew, he needed to give up Myungjun. Otherwise, they would all die.

He sighed and glanced over at Sanha, who seemed to understand the simple look.

It was Bin who questioned the decision. He nudged Minhyuk and asked, “Are you certain? We can try to fight.”

“We can’t,” Minhyuk murmured. They were outnumbered. They were backed into a corner. The other men had the capabilities of murdering them all with no hesitation. There was nothing Minhyuk could do except allow them to take Myungjun.

The captain sensed he had won, and he grinned. “Good choice,” he assured Minhyuk, though it did nothing to lift Minhyuk’s dampened spirits. “I’ll come with you to grab the siren. You will bind him first, however, so he does not harm anyone in my crew.” The captain passed over chains and cuffs and a muzzle. Minhyuk wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to throw everything overboard. But he was the captain of this ship, and he had a duty to protect his crewmates.

“What will you do with the siren?” he asked, gripping tightly onto the iron chains.

“Show him. I won’t kill him unless he acts unruly; a live siren is worth a fortune to me, as I’ve mentioned before. He will be an amazing spectacle! People will come from across the world just to lay eyes on a live siren!”

If his motivation was money, then perhaps he really  _ would _ keep Myungjun alive. Minhyuk could hang back and develop a plan and save Myungjun from death.

He glanced at Dongmin. “I need you,” he said. “You need to explain to Myungjun what his new life will be like.”

Dongmin looked frustrated and defiant, but he nodded his head anyway. 

Before they could move, Bin reached out and brushed his fingers lightly against Minhyuk’s shoulder. Minhyuk ignored the silent comfort and shrugged him off.

He didn’t deserve to be treated so gently. He was giving up Myungjun. He was betraying his true love.

He stumbled below deck, blinking away tears, and called out, “Myungjun?”

There was nothing at first, and then a chest slowly opened. Myungjun peered out with interest, and his face lit up when he saw Minhyuk. He opened the chest the rest of the way and began to crawl out, only stopping when he noticed the captain standing to Minhyuk’s left.

“It’s okay,” Minhyuk murmured. Dongmin seemed to translate for him, and Myungjun relaxed slightly. He pulled himself out of the trunk and flopped to the floor, where Minhyuk knelt down to greet him. 

“I’m sorry, Myungjun,” he whispered, placing a small kiss onto Myungjun’s forehead. Myungjun beamed from the touch, then pointed at the chains in Minhyuk’s hands, inquisitive as to their use.

Minhyuk took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable, and said, “Dongmin, tell him to turn around and put his hands behind his back.”

Dongmin, once again, translated. Myungjun glanced between the two of them, and once at the other captain, before nodding his head and doing as Minhyuk had requested.

Minhyuk tied him properly, then cuffed his hands together so he could not escape.

Myungjun seemed confused. He tugged once at the chains that bound him and looked at Minhyuk for assistance. He smiled nervously and jostled his hands around. Minhyuk’s heart dropped when he realized Myungjun  _ still _ trusted him. Minhyuk hesitated, wondering if he had made the wrong choice. Could he fight back? Could he try his best to kill these disgusting men and save both his crew  _ and _ Myungjun? He thought of the siren-fishers still above deck, holding his men hostage. If they heard any sound of struggle, they likely wouldn’t hesitate to fire upon the innocent men in Minhyuk’s crew.

If he fought back, there was a possibility they would all die, including Myungjun.

He took a deep breath and looked over at the other captain, who gestured for him to continue.

“Will you promise not to cause any harm to my siren?” he asked.

The captain looked surprised, then laughed. “You’re not in any position to make demands,” the captain pointed out.

“True,” Minhyuk acknowledged, “but if you can’t swear this to me, then I’ll fight back. You’ll have to kill us to escape --  _ all _ of us, even the siren. Then you’ll only have a dead siren to display and you won’t make the fortune you’ve been longing to make.”

His words seemed to jostle the captain, who lost his smile and glared upon Minhyuk with frustration. Finally, the man nodded his head.

“As long as he does not attack my men, then no harm shall come to him.”

Minhyuk swallowed nervously and sighed. “Dongmin,” he murmured, grabbing the muzzle, “explain to Myungjun that I will put this on him and he must never once harm any of these men, no matter how much he might want to. And…” He hesitated, unsure of how much he was able to say in front of the captain. How could he inform Myungjun that he promised to save him? How could he let Myungjun know that this was not a betrayal?

Fortunately, Dongmin seemed to understand the wordless request. He nodded his head, a knowing look in his eyes, and translated Minhyuk’s inner thoughts to Myungjun, whose eyes widened as he realized the gravity of the situation.

Myungjun glanced over at the captain, and then back at Minhyuk, who could hardly meet his gaze.

The captain nudged him and gestured to the muzzle, and Minhyuk knew he would have to finish binding Myungjun.

He took a deep breath before he fit the muzzle over Myungjun’s face. He positioned it so Myungjun could not bite anyone, and he secured the ends around the back of Myungjun’s head. It looked so wrong and so horrible to see poor Myungjun completely tied up and muzzled, his eyes alight with fright as he wordlessly pleaded for Minhyuk to cease his actions.

Minhyuk finished his task and ran a hand down Myungjun’s shoulder, feeling his chest constrict. “It’ll be alright,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure how he could ever find forgiveness. He was doing a horrible thing to someone who loved him and protected him. He was a traitor to poor Myungjun, who had never done anything wrong.

He couldn’t say what he truly longed to say, though, not in front of the captain, and so he turned to Dongmin and mouthed the words.

Dongmin looked upon both Minhyuk and Myungjun with pity, then translated for Myungjun.

_ I love you _ , Minhyuk said, turning back to Myungjun, who listened to Dongmin briefly before finding Minhyuk’s gaze.

The siren relaxed a little bit. He nodded his head slightly, acknowledging Minhyuk’s feelings, and then leaned forward to tap their foreheads together. The muzzle hit Minhyuk’s nose, but he relished the fleeting touch.

Then the captain began to drag Myungjun away, pulling him to the door where he called out something. Another of his crewmates rushed down and excitedly helped the captain to carry Myungjun up the stairs.

Minhyuk stayed where he was, struggling to keep his tears in check. He couldn’t cry; not right now, and not when it was all his fault.

Dongmin knelt beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Minhyuk could barely feel it.

All he could feel in his heart was crushing defeat and the realization that he was a traitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it's been a while since i've updated this, oops. enjoy the new chapter!

It was rather easy to convince merchants to trade with him. He had no references and could hardly speak their language, but the merchants around Sri Lanka seemed to not care. Apparently, he had an able body and a ship and that was good enough for them.

So Minhyuk loaded his ship with more goods, filling the storage spaces that had been empty for so long.

He felt rather guilty, continuing to work while Myungjun was caught and paraded around as some sort of animal. He wondered if Myungjun thought of him often. He wondered if Myungjun hoped and prayed that Minhyuk would one day come to his rescue.

But it had been two weeks since Myungjun was taken from him and despite asking and looking, Minhyuk could detect no sign of the siren on display.

“What if they’ve killed him?” Minhyuk asked one day, interrupting Bin’s small monologue. 

Bin glanced at him and Minhyuk met his gaze.

“Were you not listening?” Bin asked. “I’ve been going over the quantities for record-keeping.”

Minhyuk scowled and did not respond. After a few seconds, Bin sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think they have killed him, Minhyuk. Odds are, they’re simply preparing some sort of display to keep him in. Showing exotic creatures is a business, and it takes time. They need a location, a cage, investors, perhaps, advertisements -- if they’re smart businessmen, as I assume they are, then they won’t just thrust him into the public without careful planning first.”

“So he’s wasting away instead,” Minhyuk muttered. “Brilliant.”

Bin gazed upon him with such pity that Minhyuk started to feel sick. “Oh, don’t look at me like that! I do not deserve your pity.  _ I’m _ the reason he’s in the position he’s in! It’s  _ my _ fault! Perhaps if I treated him more like a siren and less like a...a  _ lover _ , then he’d be out in the sea, perfectly content and happy and  _ safe. _ ”

“But he was never content before coming to our ship,” Bin pointed out. “From what Dongmin gathered, he was miserable. I mean, sirens seem to be vocal creatures; how can a mute one ever bond with others of its own species? And then when he came to the surface, he met you; you’re unable to hear, but you two communicate in a way I’ve never seen before. I think he liked being treated as an equal, as a  _ friend _ .”

Minhyuk gnawed on his bottom lip, worrying it. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly and realized that, as much as Myungjun had liked him, he was still better off underwater. Here, he was treated like a freak of nature. At least underwater he would be cast out from the community but still safe.

As if sensing his despair, Bin nudged him. “We’ll find Myungjun,” he promised as soon as Minhyuk opened his eyes again. “The entire crew is on board. But, as we search, we need money. This will give us money. It will also give us connections who might seem to know more than us.”

“That’s true,” Minhyuk conceded. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. “I guess, too, we can look for that damn snake in the meantime.”

“The...the snake?”

“The nine-headed snake,” Minhyuk responded. “Myungjun was on a quest to become human. The final thing we needed for the potion, other than some of Dongmin’s kumiho hair, is one of the heads off of a nine-headed snake.”

“I forgot about that,” Bin said. “Where the hell would we even find a nine-headed snake? I thought those were merely creatures of myth and legend.”

“I thought that of the harpies and the dryads, but they’ve all been real, so I assume the snake is, also.” Minhyuk took a deep breath, trying his best to rid himself of the pain and anguish he felt, then added, “Dongmin might know where to look.”

In fact, Dongmin was excited to help and dig deep into his stolen knowledge for answers. “Oddly enough, it’s a creature found across the known world.” He examined Minhyuk’s map, nestled within the captain’s quarters, and began to point to a few countries. “I know for certain Korea has some. China has the largest multitude. Greece is known for other nine-headed snakes. They look different, but they are still from a similar bloodline.”

Minhyuk grit his teeth down. “Those places are all too far away at the moment,” he grumbled. “We’re close to India. I don’t want to spend weeks or months traveling around to find one back home, or one closer to Europe. Are there any snakes in this region? Any snakes we could find within a week?”

Dongmin thought for a few seconds and then nodded his head. “As it so happens, I have stolen the knowledge of an Indian woman. I think Sri Lanka actually has some. Or, at least, many of these snakes are known to have inhabited Sri Lanka hundreds of years ago.”

“Hundreds of years?” Minhyuk sat back in his seat and sighed. “No knowledge of any current snakes? God, unless I want a history lesson, your stolen intelligence is absolutely useless.”

With a sharp look in his direction, Dongmin continued, “Ancient beings are still around today. That’s how we found the harpies and the dryads and the jialong.”

Dongmin  _ did _ have a point. They had no evidence that the snakes were completely wiped from history just yet, and so, while there was hope, they must trudge onward.

“It’s worth checking out, then,” Minhyuk stated. “Since we are already docked in Sri Lanka and have yet to leave.”

“So we need to get a snake head?” Dongmin questioned. “And some of my fur, correct? And then the potion will be ready?”

“Yes.” Minhyuk glanced over at Bin and rolled forward with his plan. “I want to have the potion prepared, and then I want us to find Myungjun. Once we find him, we’ll release him, let him drink the potion, and then he will be useless as a carnival act. No one will pay to see a human, even if that human was once a siren. He won’t have any siren characteristics, I believe, and so there will be no reason for anyone to try and kidnap him ever again.”

The others seemed to agree, and Minhyuk felt a bit of hope fill his chest. If everything worked out, then he might have Myungjun back in his arms within a month or two.

He prayed that Myungjun could handle a month or two.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

The locals were eager to regale the travelers with tales of nine-headed snakes. Each one had a different legend or anecdote. Each one had parents or grandparents, aunts or uncles, who had come face to face with such a strange creature. Each one pointed the crew in different directions.

Days passed. They made little progress, and Minhyuk found himself angrily crossing spots off his map as each one came up empty.

“At this rate,” he complained one night at a local inn, “we won’t find anything and we have to sail to India in a week.”

Dongmin sighed. “We might have more luck in India, anyway,” he pointed out. “Sri Lanka is rather small; even if the snakes were here once, it’s possible they’ve left.”

Jinwoo then spoke up. “Should we split up?” he asked. “We might be able to cover more ground that way. I can take Sanha and...Bin.”

“You want our best fighter?” Minhyuk complained.

With a grin, Jinwoo nodded his head. “I’d leave you with Dongmin. He’s strong, and he can shape-shift.”

“What makes you think you’d be the leader?” Bin asked.

“I’m older than you are,” replied Jinwoo.

There was an argument brewing; Minhyuk could sense it. Before his crew could fight amongst themselves, Minhyuk decided to interrupt.

“I actually think that’s a good plan,” he agreed, and Jinwoo beamed all the more. “Bin, go with Jinwoo and Sanha. We have yet to look at the east coast, so head that way. Dongmin and I will continue further into the island.”

Bin scowled a little bit, but he didn’t argue with his instructions. “What shall we do if we find the snake? Or if you find the snake? How will we convey the message to you, or you to us?”

“We’ll simply meet up at the end of the week,” Minhyuk stated. “And if none of us have gotten the head, then...then we shall try our luck in India, as Dongmin has mentioned.”

Bin swallowed thickly and nodded his head, but Minhyuk knew there was an unspoken question brewing within his heart --  _ what if we don’t find the snake head in India? _

Minhyuk refused to give up his quest to save Myungjun. He said, “No matter what, though, I want us to break Myungjun out. Even if our initial plan to turn him human fails, then...then we’ll still find him. I’ll not leave him in the hands of those awful people. He deserves so much better than what I’ve given him.”

Sanha was quick to offer comfort. “It wasn’t your fault, Minhyuk!” He talked a little fast, as per usual, but Minhyuk was still able to make out his words. “You did what you could. You saved all of us, and I think we can still save him, too.” When Jinwoo nudged him, Sanha corrected himself: “I know we can save him.”

“Thanks, Sanha,” Minhyuk mumbled. He took a deep breath and then clapped his hands lightly together. “Let’s sleep. We’ll wake up early tomorrow morning and start on our quest. Then...then once Myungjun’s back, I  _ swear _ we’ll return to the simple, merchant life. No more crazy adventures and dealings with the supernatural.”

He could see Jinwoo laughing, and Bin smiled.

“It’s not too bad,” Bin said. “I mean, we have a kumiho in our crew now! And once we get Myungjun back, we’ll have a siren-turned-human. I think our crew will be the most powerful merchanting crew in the entire world.”

Sanha nodded his head eagerly, and Minhyuk’s heart warmed with the knowledge that his men were with him the entire step of the way.

**‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵**

“I hate this,” Minhyuk complained as he and Dongmin waded through muddy terrain. “My boots keep getting stuck.”

If Dongmin said anything in response, it was lost. Minhyuk kept his eyes down, watching his every step, his every move. He was afraid of tripping and falling, or else accidentally stumbling upon something rather unpleasant. After all, the snake could be  _ anywhere _ . A few villagers had pointed them in this direction, and after days of fruitless searching, Minhyuk simply prayed that these villagers had been correct.

All the while, accompanying the ever-present danger, Minhyuk couldn’t help but think of Myungjun.

Was he being fed? He ate a lot of fish daily, bones and all. Were the horrible men feeding him properly? What if he was malnourished? What if they were withholding food from him as a way to make him more submissive? What if they were put-off by his eating habits and had decided to kill him anyway? It was a disturbing sight for someone unaccustomed to it, and Minhyuk knew that siren-hunters would still reap the benefit, even if their siren was dead.

Even if he was fed, he was chained and bound and muzzled. Was he able to swim like that? Wouldn’t he flounder about? Wouldn’t he be slower and clumsier? If they dumped him in the ocean, could he get away from predators? But it was far more likely they hadn’t dumped him and were instead still keeping him captive. How, then, was he getting the water he desperately needed? He could die without proper amounts of water bathing over his skin. Did they know that? Why couldn’t Minhyuk have thought to give them a list of instructions on how to keep Myungjun alive and healthy? Then again, he doubted those evil humans would have even accepted such a list. 

And then Minhyuk wondered how on earth Myungjun could handle being shown. He was used to Minhyuk’s crew gawking at him, but he had yet to experience much else. Minhyuk had been to a few shows before of strange and unnatural creatures. The audience liked to jeer some of those creatures on. Sometimes they would throw fruit at the creatures, both in an attempt to see them eat and as a way to mock. Would Myungjun be subjected to the same horrendous practices? 

Regardless, he was going to be treated like an animal. No one would recognize his worth. They would look past his humanity and focus solely on his tail and his scales and his sharp teeth and his yellow eyes.

Minhyuk swallowed past the lump that had slowly formed in his throat as he picked his feet up high and marched forward again. He wanted to lay down and cry. He wanted to let his grief wash over him as he mourned the loss of his best friend.

But before he could speak up and ask Dongmin if they could  _ please _ take a rest so he could wail out his sorrows, he was suddenly pushed back. He stumbled in the mud and looked up from his feet to where Dongmin had grabbed him and yanked him aside.

“What?” he called out. “What’s happening?”

It didn’t take too long to figure out. There in front of them was the snake, and it was far more hideous than Minhyuk had thought it would be. It had nine heads as foretold by the legend, but each head was a human head. There were three human heads in a row, with three more stacked on top of those, and another three on  _ those _ . Each head seemed to operate separate from its brother. Their eyes moved differently and sometimes a long tongue would slither out of each one’s mouth. 

Minhyuk gasped and gawked at the creature, and he only thought to move when the snake began to slither forward. Once more, Dongmin pushed him aside, brandishing his sword with ease.

Minhyuk, trying to retain his composure, grappled a bit with his gun, yanking it from his holster finally, just as the snake struck.

The mud made moving a difficult task, but Minhyuk was fueled with a sudden surge of hope.  _ This _ was what Myungjun needed! This was the last thing that would grant Myungjun his freedom! He could fight. He could survive and bring back a head to add to Myungjun’s potion. If he worked fast and dispatched of this creature, then he might have Myungjun back by the end of the month.

Dongmin pushed him forward again, and Minhyuk nearly fell this time. He scrambled upright, though, mud flinging about on his hands and clothes, and tried to find a more solid ground. The snake was clearly used to traversing such difficult territory, and it continued to pursue them, attacking left and right as Minhyuk and Dongmin focused all of their energy on dodging.

Finally, Minhyuk could take it no more. He found himself growing exhausted and his boots were caked so heavily in mud that he was certain they were weighing him down. They could no longer continue on the defensive, and so Minhyuk yelled out, “Split up, Dongmin!” 

He didn’t know if Dongmin gave a response, and he was certainly not going to stop to find out. He moved to the right, and he prayed Dongmin had moved to the left.

The snake struck, and this time one of the heads managed to clamp down on his shoulder. Minhyuk panicked and struggled in its grasp, but it let go just as suddenly as it had bitten him. When he glanced over, he realized that Dongmin, spurred onward by Minhyuk’s change in direction, had managed to slice down the snake’s side.

Before the snake could attack him, as well, Minhyuk readied his gun, aimed, and shot. His bullet seemed to bury deep within the snake’s middle, but that didn’t seem to stop it. Still, the snake attacked, and Minhyuk had to continue to dart to and fro. 

Soon enough, however, there was a rhythm to the madness. When the snake attacked Minhyuk, Dongmin could cut it with his sword. When the snake attacked Dongmin, Minhyuk riddled its body and heads with bullets. 

Like this, they were able to slow the snake down. It bled everywhere and it was clearly losing the fight.

It took one last maneuver, one last gunshot, and finally the snake fell. Even then, it still breathed, so Dongmin took the time to stab through its body and run his sword down the length. 

The snake convulsed a few times, but it was dead. Minhyuk sighed and brushed some sweat away from his forehead as he examined the monstrous beast.

Dongmin rushed over to Minhyuk and looked at his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Minhyuk pulled back the torn fabric of his shirt and winced at the bloody mess. “I’ll be fine, as long as this snake didn’t inject me with poison.”

“As far as I’m aware, nine-headed snakes don’t have poison,” Dongmin assured him, though he still seemed wary. “We’ll still keep an eye on that wound, just in case.”

Minhyuk nodded his head. He had already been planning on letting Dongmin further examine his wound when they returned to the ship. For now, though, he wanted nothing more than to complete the task at hand.

“Would you like to cut off it’s head, or shall I?” he asked, gesturing at Dongmin’s sword.

Dongmin offered Minhyuk a small smile. “I know you would like to,” he commented, “but I don’t think you ought to, not with that shoulder.”

It would have definitely been quite nice to complete Myungjun’s quest, but he knew better than to aggravate his wound. Best to let it rest so he would be prepared to bust Myungjun out of his prison.

He allowed Dongmin, then, to behead the creature. It took some time, and some careful carving skills, but finally Dongmin passed over the disgusting, semi-human head of the snake. 

Minhyuk took it and held it out in front of him with one hand. In any other circumstance he knew he would feel horrified at such a sight.

But now, the only thing he felt was hope. This damn head was Myungjun’s salvation, and so Minhyuk decided that he actually enjoyed looking at it. 

He was going to save Myungjun. He knew he could do it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


End file.
